I rode out to Gail Sanders’ Clearwater ranch. Bushy Mustache was standing in the same spot he was two days before—I doubt he’d ever moved—and he just jerked a thumb towards the house. I knocked, but went in.
“Gail?”
She came from the hallway to the left. She didn’t look especially happy to see me. “Hi, Robert. What can I do for you?”
“We need to go to the bank. You and me. Talk to Kragan.”
“You want to tell me why?”
“Of course. Jim Perry is dead and you’re going to buy that land.”
She blanched at that. “He is? I am?”
“Yes, he is and yes, you are. Come to the bank with me and I’ll tell you how it works.”
She hesitated, but I definitely had her interest. “All right. I told you the other day that I can’t afford to buy my ranch, much less his, but if you’ve got some creative financing scheme up your sleeve, I’ll at least listen. Let me change clothes real quick. Have Karl saddle my horse for me.”
So we rode into town together. “Jim Perry is dead?” she asked. “How? What happened?”
“Lead poisoning.”
She smiled at that. “You gave it to him, I suppose.”
“Yeah.” I told her what had happened since I had last seen her.
“So Jim Perry is really dead, huh.” She said it like she found it hard to believe. “He doesn’t have an heir.” She looked at me. “What makes you think I can buy the Circle P?” Circle P was what Perry called his ranch.
“I think you can. Let me tell you about it when we get to Kragan’s office. That way I won’t have to explain it twice.”
“Ok.”
We got to the banker’s office just after 1. He was there. “So Gail Sanders is the buyer you were talking about?” he asked me. He shook his head. “People in this town won’t cotton to her owning all that range any more than they would Jim Perry.”
“How many acres are out there, Kragan? All total, Perry and Sanders land.”
“Over 250,000, split pretty even, though Clearwater has a little more.”
I looked at Gail. “You want those settlers off your land.”
“You know I do.”
“How much land does each have?”
“They all bought a quarter section, 160 acres.”
“How many of them are there?”
“10 families.”
I nodded. “Here’s what you do. Buy Perry’s land and file on your own. Kragan will put up the money. Go to each of the settlers on your land—land you claim—and tell them you’ll give them 240 acres of prime land on the other side of the river in exchange for what they have now. They can pick the spot. Then you divide up the rest of Circle P into quarter sections, advertise back east and wherever, and start selling off the plots. Buy some of the vacant lots and empty buildings in town, because when people start moving onto that range—let’s call it West Clearwater now to distinguish it from your East Clearwater ranch—there’s going to be a boom in this town. As well grassed and watered as that land is, it will hold dozens of families. They won’t live in town, of course, but the people who’ll come to service them will. You’ll make enough to pay off your loan to Mr. Kragan and be rich ten times over. And you’ll have all your land back.”
Kragan wasn’t overly happy about it. “She’ll have to put up Clearwater—her ranch—for collateral.”
I looked at Gail. “Are you willing to do that?”
“Robert, as you’ve been so persistent in pointing out to me, I don’t really own it.”
My gaze shifted to the banker. “It’s really up to you, Mr. Kragan.”
Gail looked at Kragan. It was obvious he was thinking because he was working that cigar back and forth across his mouth like it was a hot potato. “Will my land be enough collateral to pay for Perry’s land? And some of the lots in town?” Gail asked the banker.
“I imagine it will. Problem is, who knows what Perry’s land is worth? I can tell you what Atkins and the others bought their quarter sections for, but each piece of land would be different. Best thing you can do is go file on it immediately in the land claims office and let them determine its worth. They’ll give you an appraisal based on total acreage. Come back and let me know what it is and we’ll work out a deal. Probably won’t be as high a price as you think it will because there’s been no demand for it. Well, Perry’s had it.” He nodded. “I think it will work.” Then he looked thoughtful. “Miss Sanders, you might be tempted to keep all of the Circle P, or at least that which you don’t give to your settlers. I wouldn’t do that. I think you know that your reputation in this town is, well, about down there where Jim Perry’s was. If you handle this right, do what Mr. Constance says, you can get all of your original land back, and be a major town benefactor by dividing up and selling—what did Constance call it?—West Clearwater.”
Gail was still a little concerned. “That’s going to put me pretty deep in debt.”
I told her, “Gail, you’ve been living off free land for almost all your life. Now is the time to do it the right way. Buy the land and make it pay. Over time, I have a suspicion you’ll come out way ahead, with what you’ll get from Perry land. Otherwise, you have no legal way to stop people from squatting on what you’ve been using all these years.”
Kragan added, “I think the payoff will be worth it. And I’ll make this deal with you. You borrow from me to buy Perry’s land and your own. If you file on your land, you’re going to have to pay whatever the land assessor says it’s worth. But if you can’t make it go, I won’t foreclose on your land, I’ll just foreclose on Perry’s—West Clearwater and any lots you might want to buy in town. I think Constance has hit on it. Divide that land up and it will bring in lots of folks. Town’ll boom. Railroad will hear about it and come through. We’re sitting on a potential gold mine here.”
Kragan’s eyes were gleaming like diamonds and he was almost drooling. The man was greedy, no doubt about it, but I think he saw the merits of the plan. I didn’t see any reason to stay around, so I stood up and said, “Well, I’ll let you two hammer out the details…”
But Gail stopped me. “Robert, would you…stay? This is a little… overwhelming, and I’d like your help, at least until I can see what all is involved.”
I sat down. “Are you interested?”
“Yes.”
“Even if it means going deep into debt?”
“Yes. Especially if Mr. Kragan gives me a guarantee he won’t foreclose on it.”
“I’ll do that,” Kragan said. I thought that was pretty big of him. In fact, I thought that was very big of him. In double fact, I didn’t really think he’d honor his word if push came to shove. He could have all of Gail’s land, too, sell it for a mint and really be in hog heaven. But, either way, he was going to come out of it in the green by a wide margin. I did a bit of quick calculating and, at a quarter section each, Perry’s land could easily hold several hundred settlers. Of course, some might want more than a quarter section, but still…lots of people. And that meant lots of business for the town. Lots of new businesses for the town. People who would want to borrow money to start those businesses. Borrow money from Kragan’s bank….
He was probably at least 3 hours ahead of me on all that.
I stayed around and helped. Before the day was over, Gail had gone to the land claims office and filed on all the land that had not yet been claimed of the old Perry and Sanders homestead. “Will you talk to the settlers with me? Convince them to move?” she asked me.
I nodded. “Anything I can do to help.” Why not? I didn’t have anything else to do.
“You’ll want a piece of the new land, of course.”
I stopped and looked at her. Then chuckled. “Never really thought about it.” I shrugged. “I don’t have any money, Gail. I couldn’t afford it.”
She smiled. “Well, maybe we can work out something.”
I didn’t press her on it. Frankly, I had mixed emotions about staying. Yes, I liked the area. No, I didn’t like what had happened. I didn’t want to get a reputation as a fast gun in River Bend. Problem was, I already had it. Jim Perry was fast, but I nailed him easily and I heard the comments: “Never say anybody move so fast”…”Man, he’s fast”…holy moley, that was unbelievable…” That kind of stuff gets around and every hotshot who thinks he’s slick with a gun would want to challenge me. Of course, like I did initially with Jake Barton, I didn’t mind ignoring them and I didn’t give a hoot what they thought about me. But it was a headache I didn’t have to have if I moved somewhere else and just took a cowpunching job. Do I want my own ranch again? Well, yes, of course…Here?…I don’t know…I’d have to think about it. Kragan would probably loan me the money if I put up the land as collateral, though I don’t especially like a bank owning my property. But there was time to give it some thought. I was in no hurry to leave.
Over the next few days and weeks, the wheels slowly began to turn and things slowly began to fall into place. Some of the settlers on Gail’s land balked about moving, but they all agreed to at least go and look over the new land. There was some prime water and grass property available and when the balkers saw it, they immediately agreed to a straight-up trade. When the last one signed the papers, I saw tears come to Gail’s eyes.
“I’ve got all my father’s land back now,” she whispered. I was happy for her.
This was a long-term investment, of course, so it would be years before the thing came to full fruition. But the foundations were put in place, and that was all that could be done for the time being. Gail put her land for collateral, bought it all and the remaining Perry land—over 125,000 acres—with money borrowed from Kragan—he was going to make a killing and he knew it. She then had the Circle P surveyed, and started advertising. And she bought up some prime property in River Bend—what Kragan himself didn’t buy, that is. She owned a lot in the Clearwater Valley and people were a little skeptical at first, but over time they would come around. Hopefully. Whether I would stay around or not, I wasn’t sure. But I was happy for Gail.
I didn’t know whether to be happy for me or not. I generally wasn’t because two names kept coming into my head…Robin…Julie…
And usually in that order.
Chapter Eight—Finishing Up in River Bend
A few days after our initial meeting with Kragan, Gail said to me, “Can you come for dinner tonight? I’ve invited Clint Bailor and, well, maybe you could invite Kelly Atkins. If you wanted to, of course.”
I smiled. Kelly had told me that Clint had a crush on Gail and so maybe she was giving him a chance. I had only seen Kelly once since the morning of the Perry attack, and I wouldn’t mind seeing her again.
"Ok, I’ll come and I’ll go ask Kelly. Not sure if she’ll be able to make it or not, but I’ll be there regardless.”
“Good.” She named a time and I went to the Atkins place to invite Kelly.
“Gail Sanders?” she asked, a bit nonplussed. “What’s going on?”
“I’ll tell you on the way. Get ready.”
“Well, I want to take a bath.”
“I do, too. Let’s go to town and do it and ride on out to the Sanders place from there.”
“Ok, but I’m going to wear jeans.”
“Those little short things you wore the day of the attack?”
“NO!” she exclaimed, and then laughed. “Pa told me to burn those.”
“Hmph. What a fuddy-duddy he is,” and she laughed again.
The dinner was splendid and we were all having a good time. All of us except poor Clint. He was star-struck with Gail Sanders, and he was so afraid of saying or doing something wrong. Gail tried to put him at ease—it seemed that she did like him, too—but Clint was all thumbs. And Gail was pretty—very—strong-willed, so old Clint was taking a drubbing. I glanced a couple of times at Kelly and saw her grimace. I thought maybe I needed to step in and help.
We were all sitting in the living room after supper. Kelly and I were on the couch, she to my right, and Clint and Gail sat on the love seat. Clint had just said something and Gail had cleaned his clock again. I winked at Kelly.
“Clint, ol’ boy, let me give you a piece of advice.”
He looked at me with a face that said “Please! Anything!”
"Women are nice to have around and all that, but sometimes they get to thinkin’ they’re as good as us men. And when they start thinkin’ that, there’s only one thing to do.” And with that, I grabbed Kelly, laid her across my left leg, pinned her legs with my right one, and patted her a few times on the bottom. In preparation.
“Sometimes this is the only language they understand, Clint,” I said to him.
Kelly was screeching at me. She had NOT expected this at all. “Don’t you dare! Let me up…I’ll scratch your eyes out…” She tried to wiggle but I had her pinned good, and when her hands came back, I grabbed her wrists with my left hand and held them in the small of her back.
“It’s a shame, Clint,” I said, patting Kelly’s upturned rear a few more times, “but it has to be…”
I proceeded to give Kelly a firm spanking—not hard enough to really hurt, but she screamed and shouted death threats and carried on like I was torturing her. “Oww…that hurt…Stop it, Robert Constance, right now…I mean it…do you hear me?… ooohw….you’re hurting me…”
“They’ll always say that,” I told Clint, and continued to smack Kelly’s behind.
I glanced at Clint and Gail. He was smiling; she was staring at Kelly’s backside getting smacked, her eyes as big as saucers. “Yes,” he said, “I think I get the idea…”
I stopped spanking Kelly for a moment. She was still screaming, but I smacked her hard and said “Hush.” She whimpered but went quiet. Clint was looking at Gail. “Yes,” he repeated, “I understand perfectly now…”
Gail did, too, and she got a horrified expression on her face. She jumped up. “Don’t you dare, Clint Bailor! I’ll never forgive you…”
“Ignore all that nonsense, Clint,” I told him.
He was on his feet now, smiling at her. She was backing up and he was coming towards her. “I mean it, Clint, don’t you do it. I’ll scream...”
“Go on, Clint. That woman needs it bad. Almost as bad as this one.” I smacked Kelly again and got an “ouch!” in return. “Will you let me up now?” she asked with obvious exasperation.
“Hush,” I told her again, emphasized with another swat.
I heard Gail squeal as Clint grabbed her. He sat on a chair and flipped Gail over his lap. She squirmed and hollered and threatened and did everything she could, but he was having the time of his life. And quite frankly, I didn’t get the impression that Gail Sanders was totally committed to getting away.
After a minute or so, he stopped and looked at me. “Yes. Thank you. I’ve seen the light.”
“There’s one more thing, though, Clint.”
“Oh? What’s that?”
Gail was still lying across his lap, kicking and struggling, and Kelly had gone passive across mine, but I could hear her mumbling threatenings and slaughter against my person….”just wait till I get up…you just wait, mister…” That sort of thing.
“Once you finish letting them know who’s boss, you need to do this…” And I jerked Kelly up, sat her next to me, put my arms around her, and kissed her, holding my lips on hers, and not letting go. She kicked, squirmed, pushed, and made all kinds of noises, but I kept kissing her…and kissing her…and kissing her….and I finally felt her hands on the back of my head and she started kissing me back in a fever of passion and desire. We didn’t break for 15 minutes, and when we did, we were both breathing hard. I flicked a glance at Clint and Gail—she was sitting in his lap and they were wrapped in a kiss of their own. Kelly and I grinned at each other. I whispered to her, “Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.”
She whispered, “I think it worked.”
“With you, too?”
She pulled me to her. “Especially with me…”
I was still staying in the River Bend Hotel and I got in late that night because I rode with Kelly to her house to make sure she got home safely. But even though it was late, I didn’t fall asleep immediately. I lay on my back with my hands under my head, looking up at the ceiling. Thinking. Kelly…she’s…sweet…kinda feisty…level-headed…I’d like to see her again… I rolled over onto my side but still didn’t close my eyes. I listened to the clock ticking the seconds away. I thought about Julie, my Julie, but I couldn’t go there, it hurt too much. I thought about Julie Ratliff, but not for long, though I had nothing but fond memories of her. I thought about…but I didn’t want to go there, either. I saw her. I saw her at the Indian camp. I saw her on that horse, with that man, being chased by those renegades…I actually saw her again…why didn’t I do something? Why didn’t I go to Whitewater? I rolled over onto my other side, the agony and frustration building. Oh, Robin, Robin… you’re the only one who could ever help me forget Julie…
But you’re gone forever, too…
I rolled onto my back again and stared at the ceiling once more. I sighed. Well, maybe Kelly…
There was a lot going on in Clearwater Valley, and most of it revolved around Gail Sanders. As noted, she had purchased Jim Perry’s land, the Circle P ranch, and also filed and bought her own land, just to make sure nobody ever squatted on it again. Those settlers who had been on her land were all willing to take more, and better, land on the other side of the river. So Gail had all her father’s land back. She had to put it all up as collateral—“mortgaged” it, as the bank referred to it—but, by selling off the old Circle P land, she hope to pay off the debt. She had asked me to stay around and help, and she agreed to pay me $100 a month if I would do so. I was beginning to need the money, so I decided I’d do it. Kelly Atkins might have influenced my decision a little bit as well, but I told myself the money was more important.
“What do you think I ought to do with all of Jim Perry’s stock, Robert?” Gail asked me a couple of days after the dinner related at the end of the previous section. “I’m pretty sure I don’t have enough grass here on Clearwater to support all of them.”
“Well, you’re getting ready to sell some of your own stock, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Sell some of his, too. It’s yours now. Bring what you think your grass will handle over to Clearwater, sell the best of the stock, and leave the rest on Circle P land. Then when people come and want to buy it, you’ve got another selling point—‘there’s already some stock on the range.’ You can even sell for a higher price that way.”
She smiled at me. “Thanks. That’s what I was thinking as well, but I just wanted your input. You think like a rancher.”
I smiled back at her. “Well, I told you I once was one.”
“Have you decided whether you want a plot of that land or not? I’ll give you a discount and I’m sure Kragan would loan you the money.”
It was a perfect situation, it really was. I loved that valley, and there was some very good grassland available—I could get 160 acres, there would already be cattle on the range, the people in River Bend thought I was the living end for what I had done to clear the place of riffraff like Jake Benton and Jim Perry, and there were a couple of pretty females that I could court. Yeah, Clint Bailor was making a play at Gail Sanders and I wasn’t going to monkey with another man’s monkey, but she and he weren’t a done deal yet and I wasn’t convinced they ever would be. Besides, Kelly Atkins was still available and we had parted on very good terms after the dinner two nights previous.
So, like I said, a perfect situation. I had a new identity, nobody knew I was a wanted man, I could get a good piece of land and start ranching again, and I could probably end up with a wife out of the deal, and maybe the biggest ranch in the valley.
Thus, my response was, “I’m not sure yet. I’m still thinking about it.”
What was there to think about? Intellectually, nothing. Logically, it was ideal. But emotionally…am I ready to go back to ranching? Would it remind me too much of Julie? Am I ready to get married again? It hasn’t even been a year…would it be fair to Kelly or Gail—IF either of them would have me...
And I had the same problem Robin had…Kelly was…all woman…Julie Ratliff was, too…but can anyone ever replace my Julie…Gail?…she’s pretty strong-willed, I don’t know if I like that, although she’s seem to mellow some now Perry isn’t around…maybe Clint can handle her now…well, I’ll just stay around here. It’s a good place to live, and good place to grow, a good place to raise a family…I’ll forget about Robin soon enough…
Then I sighed. Who are you trying to fool, Conners?…what difference does any of that make?…but Robin’s gone…she’s gone forever…she’s gone, gone, gone…
I could tell myself that. But telling myself and believing it weren’t always the same thing.
Over the next few weeks, I helped round up the cattle on the Circle P that Gail wanted to sell. She had two large herds to send to market, so she needed to hire a few more men to drive them to the railhead before it got too cold. The nearest rail line was only 200 miles away, so it wasn’t a big drive, but it needed to be done now. I volunteered to go on one of the drives, but Gail wanted me to stay around River Bend. She wanted me to help move the stock from Circle P over to her grass. There was also some hay to cut and store for the winter, and I was involved in that. It was starting to get cold now, and we were trying to get all the stock we could bunched together to make for easier feeding. There was a lot of work to do and I stayed busy. Gail paid me too much, but that was the figure she had given me at the restaurant that first day, even though at the time she had wanted to hire my gun. But I had helped her in other ways—more on that in a moment—so I guess the $100 a month was her way of rewarding me. And paying me for some extra work.
She did very well on the cattle sales and was able to pay off a nice part of her loan to Kragan. That was a big relief to her. It was quite obvious that Gail was financially a worry-wart, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. I was pretty much a tightwad myself, though I’d gone through that $1,400 I’d taken from the drummer and gambler pretty quickly. Of course, $400 of that had gone for Robin’s horse, and another $500 to pay off the rest of the Atkins loan. So I had been down to less than $200 before Gail started paying me. And she gave me room and board, too.
“I want you to stay in the house,” she said.
“Why? What will the other hands say?”
“I don’t really care. Well, maybe I should. But I’m paying you more, so you’ll do more. You can work the books, too, you’ve done that, I suppose.”
Joy. “Yes, I have.”
“Ok. So you’ll not only work the fields, you handle my books, too. That gives you the right to have a room in the house.” Many was the night, however, that I slept out under the stars. It was simply too far to go the Gail’s house each night, only to turn around the next morning and go back out to the range. I figured I’d earn the $100 a month.
I actually saw more of Kelly Atkins than I did Gail Sanders, mainly because I spent so much time on the range. A few days after the dinner with Gail and Clint, I went up to the Atkins cabin just to see how the two of them were. Kelly was there, but Fred wasn’t. “He’s out with the cows.” She smiled at me. “I didn’t expect to see you again.”
“Why not?”
She shrugged. “You sounded like you were going to leave the valley.”
I shook my head. “No, Gail hired me,” and I told her about the whole situation.
“Oh,” she replied, a little distant. I didn’t want that.
“Can we meet for lunch sometime? Tomorrow, maybe?”
She hesitated. “You sure?”
“Kelly, there’s nothing between me and Gail, I promise you that.”
I’m not sure she believed me, but she said, “Well, ok. Tomorrow will be fine.”
“Wear those little short cut-offs again.”
She laughed. “I told you my dad ordered me to burn those.”
“But the question is, did you?”
She smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I camped by a stream that night and laid my nice blanket out to sleep on. Sleep didn’t come easily. I remembered another time, not too many months ago, when I lay on that blanket…near a stream…no, Conners, don’t go there…don’t think about her…don’t….I sighed, my emotions in turmoil. Why…why do I think of Robin before I think of Julie? It shouldn’t be that way… I only knew her 24 hours…how can anyone get so deep…I rolled onto my side. Maybe Kelly can help…I did like Kelly, a lot…but can she be Ro—Julie? Another sigh.
And not much sleep.
Kelly and I actually met for lunch nearly every day for the next couple of weeks. “Pa wants me to come into town every day anyway and get our mail. And also ride some of the horses, give them some exercise. So it’s no trouble.” There were a few days when I was just too far out on the range to make it to town, but I usually could. A couple of times I just took the afternoon off and we walked around town, doing a little shopping.
“I still have some of that money left you threw at me that first day,” she said with a laugh. “But we were able to sell some stock recently and got a good price, so we’re pretty well set, money-wise, for awhile. We don’t really buy much in town anyway.” She shrugged. “We grow our own vegetables. Dad occasionally slaughters a hog or kills a deer for meat. We have eggs from the chickens, milk, butter, and cheese from a milk cow, and there are a lot of wild fruit trees growing on our land. I’ve canned a lot of stuff, so we have plenty to eat. It’s just nice to have a new dress or something occasionally.”
I smiled. “I’m sure it is. Have you been practicing with your new rifle?”
“Uh huh. Every time some cowboy comes up the path I get a lot of practice.”
I laughed. “You run all the men off?”
She made a face. “There are a lot of misnamed cowboys in this valley. They should be called ‘wolves.’” And I laughed again.
We went into the clothing store; I wanted to buy a new shirt and a pair of pants. I picked out two shirts I really liked, and a pair of jeans, and then walked over to where Kelly was. She, of course, was browsing through the women’s section and when I joined her, she held up a lovely red dress and asked, “Do you think this would look good on me?”
I thought it would look marvelous on her and I told her so. It had short sleeves and was cut below the neck, but not too low, with a red belt and flared skirt. “It’s got this hat that goes with it,” she said, showing me a cute, round-topped, wide-brimmed straw hat with a red cloth ribbon band around it.
“Is it your size?” I asked her.
She made a face. “Yeah. It would be.”
“Well, try it on.”
“Check this price.” I read the tag. $10. That was high, even with the hat.
“Oh, miss, these shoes go with it,” a saleslady came over and showed her a pair of red shoes. “I’m sure we’d have your size.”
“It’s still too expensive,” Kelly said. “My pa would rawhide me if I bought this.”
I told her, “I’m going to rawhide you if you don’t try it on. So do you want it now or wait till later? Besides, you may not like it once you get it on.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “I know what you’ve got in mind, Robert Constance, and I don’t like it.”
I started to take off my belt. “Ok, ok,” she said, “I’ll go try it on. But you aren’t buying it for me, and that’s final.” I smiled and winked at the saleslady.
Before Kelly went into the dressing room, the saleslady asked what shoe size she wore. Kelly told her, and the lady went to see if they had her size. Kelly went on into the dressing room, and a couple of minutes later, the saleslady came out with a shoe box. She shoved the box under the door where Kelly was changing. “Try these on, they’re your size.”
“Ok.”
I made a motion for the saleslady to come over to me. “$10 for the whole thing?” I whispered the question to her.
“Yes. But I’ll give it to her for 9.”
I gave her $9. “If she doesn’t like it, give it back to me.” She smiled and nodded.
Kelly came out a couple of minutes later, dress, shoes, and hat, and she looked absolutely delightful. She spun around, a smile on her face, then checked herself in a mirror. “I don’t know,” she said, turning this way and that.
“It’s absolutely adorable, Kelly,” I told her. And the saleslady echoed my words.
She seemed pleased. “You think so?” But it was pretty obvious that she had fallen in love with it.
“Do you like it?”
She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter, I can’t afford it.” Her eyes blazed at me. “And you can’t, either.”
The saleslady stepped in. “Oh, didn’t I tell you? Every day, just as a marketing ploy, we give away one outfit for free, and that’s the one today. Oh my, I forgot to mark it. But that’s the free outfit.”
Kelly wasn’t stupid by any stretch of the imagination, and she gave the saleslady a “Come on, do you think I’m an idiot?” look.
“Honest,” the saleslady said, all innocence.
Kelly gave me a very annoyed look. “You gave her $10, didn’t you.”
“No, I did not give this woman $10. I resent the accusation.” And, of course, I hadn’t given her $10. I’d given her $9.
Now Kelly was puzzled. “Free? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
“I told you, a marketing thing. And I’m sure you’ll come back and do a lot of shopping with us because of it. Do you like the dress, dear?”
“Oh, I love it, it’s gorgeous, but…”
“Then it’s yours. Go change back into your other clothes and I’ll box it all up for you.”
Kelly looked helpless. I almost laughed. “But…my dad will think I bought it and he’ll be livid.”
“I’ll go up there with you, if you want me to, and tell him that you didn’t. You really got lucky, with this store offer.”
She looked skeptical again. “Yeah. I sure did. I don’t know what you did, but whatever it is, I don’t like it.”
“Well, blame the store. Go change, I don’t want to stand around here all day.”
She started to say something, but just turned and went back into the changing room. She came out a few minutes later and handed everything to the saleslady. “I need to go pay for my stuff,” I said to Kelly. She was still looking at me accusingly.
I asked the saleslady, “Are you having the same deal on any men’s clothing today?”
“Yes, but I’m sorry, not in your sizes.”
“Tough break.”
Kelly stood next to me, watching me, as I counted out exactly how much the shirt and pants cost. She still hadn’t figured it out. The lady put Kelly’s clothes in boxes, then placed them all in a big sack with a handle on it. “I hope you enjoy it, dear.”
“I will, thank you.” She smiled.
The lady handed me my bag of stuff and Kelly and I left.
We walked down the sidewalk a little ways silently, and then she said, “How did you do that?”
“Do what?”
“You gave her the money while I was in the dressing room, didn’t you.”
“I told you, I never gave that woman $10.”
“I don’t believe you.”
I turned to her, and grabbed her by the upper arms. “Do you like that dress?”
“You know I do. I’ve never seen a dress I liked more. But I didn’t want you to buy it for me.”
“Well, then, give me something in return.”
“What?”
I leaned down and kissed her. “That,” I said smiling. “And believe me, I think a kiss from you is priceless.”
“Oh, Robert.” I could see tears in her eyes. She dropped her head. “Thank you.” Then she looked back up at me. “And thank you for paying off the rest of the note on our land. I know you did it. We would have lost it otherwise and it would have killed my father. He loves that land so much.”
“What makes you think—“
“Robert, please don’t.”
I looked into her eyes, then nodded. “I’m thirsty. How about a glass of lemonade?”
She tried to smile. “Ok.”
We went to a nearby restaurant and ordered. As we sat there, she seemed a little despondent. “What’s the matter?” I asked her.
“Robert, I…you…you just shouldn’t. My dad and I don’t want charity. I mean, if we can’t earn it. Dad has been trying to find out who paid that note so he can repay them. We don’t want it this way. Like the dress. And the rifle.” She twirled her straw in her lemonade glass.
“Kelly.”
She glanced at me.
“Don’t you dare tell me you and your father wouldn’t do the same thing for somebody, given the opportunity.”
She looked back down.
“What is life for if we can’t help other people occasionally?”
She said nothing.
“Besides, I owed you the rifle because I destroyed your shotgun. I didn’t pay for your land just for yours and your father’s sake. There were a whole lot deeper issues involved in this valley and somebody needed to do something and I was in a position to do it. And, blast it, I can buy you a dress for your birthday if I bloody well want to.”
I saw her start to smile. “It’s not my birthday.”
“Well, you’ll have one before this time next year.”
She tried not to laugh. “You still shouldn’t have done it.”
“Well, I did and there’s nothing you can do about it now. And if you ever tell your father I paid that note, I’ll never speak to you again.”
She was smiling now. “But you fibbed to me.”
“When?”
“You said you didn’t buy me the dress.”
“No, I did not say that. I said I didn’t give that woman $10. And I didn’t.”
“Well, what did you give her?”
“A promise. She works at the joy house down the street at night.”
Kelly busted out laughing.
I smiled. “You aren’t supposed to ask what somebody paid for your birthday present.”
“Well, it was too much, whatever it was.”
“That, my dear Kelly, is purely a matter of opinion, and one with which I wholly disagree.”
And she lowered her head again. “Thank you, Robert.”
“You’re welcome. You through? Come on, let’s get you home.”
“You don’t have to go with me, I can make it on my own.”
“I know that.” I grinned at her. “But don’t you want me to be there when you show your dad that new outfit?”
She smiled. “Yeah, I guess so. I want you to be there tonight when I wear it and fix dinner for you.”
“Well, then, I’ll be there…”
Most nights I camped out where I mentioned a few pages ago—under a huge willow tree near a creek that had good water. It was simply much closer than going all the way back to Gail’s house every night. I did go back to the house on weekends; she’d hired me to do her books, so I spent some time on Saturday and Sunday with that. Kelly had asked me about where I stayed each night, and I told her where I camped. And the night after I had dinner at the Atkins home, I had a big surprise waiting for me when I got to the camp.
I saw Kelly. She was dressed as she had been on the morning of Perry’s attack—cut-off jeans, and a shirt hardly buttoned and with the bottom tied in a knot under her breasts. Even more interesting was her position. A rope had been cast over a branch about 20 feet over her head. Her arms were stretched above her head, and her wrists were tied. The other end of the rope was tied to the base of the tree. She stood there, looking at me, a helpless, pleading expression on her face.
“What in the world…?” I muttered as I rode closer, searching both directions for possible danger.
But there wasn’t any.
“Oh, please, m’lord,” Kelly wailed. “I beg of your gracious heart that you will forgive me. Please. I know I deserve punishment, but I throw myself upon your mercy and beg clemency, not justice.”
I caught on immediately to the—very sensuous—game she was playing. I rode up closer. “Ha. Female knave. So. You’ve been caught trespassing on my land again, no doubt with the intent of stealing from my flocks or vineyards.”
She shook her head violently. “No, no, no, m’lord, I would never steal from you. I beg of you to believe me. I am innocent. I did not know…”
“Hush, peasant! Of course you knew.” I got down off my horse and stood about 20 feet from her. “The only question is the type and severity of your punishment.”
“Oh, m’lord, mercy, mercy! I am a loyal subject of yours and I would never want to displease you.”
I walked up to her and looked down at her. Wow, she looks good…”I see. After you get caught being disloyal, you suddenly become loyal. A suitable punishment for attempted theft…is to take something of value from you….”
“Please, no, m’lord. I won’t do it again. I promise I won’t. Please do not punish me.” She was playing her part perfectly. And incredibly seductively.
Her eyes looked into mine, and I didn’t see much penance. Then she smiled wickedly and jerked on the ropes over her head. And a second later I got drenched in water as a great big balloon filled with the stuff landed on my head and burst.
“Why you little imp…” I said, shaking the water off me as best I could.
Kelly laughed and laughed and laughed. And she didn't stop laughing as I tickled her ruthlessly...
I released her from her fetters and told her to go get some clothes on, “Before I…before I….”
She was smiling and her eyes were laughing. “Before you what, Mr. Tough Guy?” Standing there, hands on her hips, legs spread…Yeah, seductive…
I gave her a perplexed look. “I thought you said you burned that outfit.”
“I didn’t say that. I said my father told me to.” And she laughed again.
I laughed, too, went over to her, and started to put my arms around her. But she pushed me away. “Ooo, you're all wet. Why did you go swimming with your clothes on?”
I growled at her and started to take off my belt. She squealed and ran off behind some bushes. In a few moments, she came back—wearing the lovely red dress I had bought her.
“Now you go change,” she said, “and I’ll think about letting you put your arms around me.”
I changed clothes. And she thought about it. Long and hard. And while she was thinking about it, I was doing it…
Kelly wasn’t through with her little tricks. The next night I arrived at the camp I saw her lying on a blanket, spread eagle, and staked to ground. She was wearing that red and black shirt with jeans that she had on the first day I saw her. “Oh, sir, thank you for coming by. Oh, I am so happy…I was captured by a band of outlaws. They staked me here and said they were going into town to get some spirits and rob the bank and then they would return. If you had not come by, surely they would have abused me all night long…”
I stood about 30 feet from her . “I’m not about to come anywhere near you, girl. I have no desire to have a gallon of water dumped on me again.”
She laughed. “No water, I promise.”
I looked up. She wasn’t under a tree. I walked around her, in a circle, searching for some kind of trap. “Hurry,” she said. “Untie me before those outlaws get back.”
“I’m a whole lot more worried about you than I am about them.”
She giggled. “There’s nothing, Robert. Just me.”
I sighed. I couldn’t see anything, but that didn’t mean…
I walked over to her and started untying her, ankles first. “If this is some kind of trap, girl…”
“No trap. Just me. That’s all. Just me.”
I wasn’t sure I believed her, but when I finished untying her wrists, she reached up, grabbed me, rolled me over, and looked down at me. Smiling.
“See? Just me…”
Just her. All night long….
I couldn’t help but ask the next morning, “How in the world did you get tied to those stakes like that?”
She smiled. “I told you…Outlaws.” Then she sighed and laid her head against me. “My hero,” she said in a mock fawning voice.
I grunted, sat up, and pulled on my boots. “I’ve got to get to work….”
People in River Bend asked me when Kelly and I were going to get married. “What’re ye waitin’ fer, feller? You’d have the jewel o’ the valley. Man, don’t let her get away…” I wasn’t sure if Kelly seriously considered me as husband material, or if I was just a playmate for her. We continued to have lunch together, frequently, and we enjoyed each other’s company. But I didn’t have a total read on her. And I wasn’t sure about her, either, for my own sake, though I had just about made up my mind to ask her to marry me. She was an enjoyable companion, but…night after night I lay awake…Kelly IS wonderful…but she isn’t Julie…yet…and she isn’t…Robin…I closed my eyes, remembered another tree, another stream, same blanket…Robin…why can’t I forget you?…but I will, I know I will…I’ll forget her…or at least the memories will dull… I grunted a chuckle and shook my head. Yeah, maybe…but it doesn’t matter…I can’t go back…Julie is dead, and Robin might as well be…I’ll just stay here, get a ranch like Gail suggested....should I marry Kelly?...I wasn't sure. I was afraid of something...I hope Robin doesn’t come between us….Robin…always Robin now….
The next time I saw Kelly—well, I didn’t see her until too late. She had climbed way up in a tree, and dumped a load of dirt on my head. And then made me come after her. I chased her all over that tree before I finally caught her, and when I did, I draped her over a branch and worked her backside over good. I think she giggled the whole time. I never could spank her hard enough to keep her from laughing at me. We were up in that tree and talked about our future together, and decided that we shouldn't get married. Kelly was only 19 and told me that she just didn't think she was ready. After Julie and Robin, I didn't think I was, either. As much as I adored Kelly, so much—perhaps too much—of my heart still belonged to Julie, and maybe even more than her, to Robin, which just didn’t compute to me at all. How can I love that woman so much when I spent so little time with her? So we both agreed that it wasn't the time for marriage.
I left Clearwater Valley soon after. The bank had been robbed and the outlaws killed the sheriff, and a couple other people. Clint was going to raise a posse and go after them, but I told him I'd go get them, and since the sheriff was dead and Clint didn't think he should leave town, he let me. So I chased them. I checked in with Gail first, and she paid me off, but invited me back if I wanted to come. I wouldn’t go back to River Bend, I knew that. The outlaws had headed south and I was going to find them, even if they ended up in Rogersville and got me a rope around my neck. I don't know why I was so dead-set on finding these guys; the sheriff in River Bend was a first class jerk. But I promised his deputy and, frankly, I was ready to leave the area anyway.
Following them wasn’t difficult, and I wasn’t in any hurry. I came to a town that they had passed through just a day or so before me—I didn’t even know the name of the place—and I got a huge surprise.
“Mr. Constance!”
I turned and saw a face I recognized. “Sergeant McCoy. What are you doing so far away from Fort Tyler?”
He walked up to me and actually saluted. “I was looking for you, sir.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope. “Colonel Ratliff wanted me to deliver this to you, regardless of how long it took to find you. I don’t know what’s in it, sir, but I reckon it must be important for him to give me the orders he did.”
“I guess so,” I said, taking the envelope from him. “Thank you for your diligence, Sergeant.”
He stepped back, saluted, and said, “Colonel Ratliff said there would be no reason for me to stay with you once you received the letter. With your permission, sir, I’ll head immediately back to Fort Tyler.”
I wished he’d quit “sirring” me, but I threw him a salute and said, “Carry on, Sergeant. Give the colonel…and his daughter…my regards.”
“Yessir.” One more salute, and he turned on his heel and was gone.
I slit open the envelope; in the frame of mind I was in, I figured it had to be more bad news. Something like my mother had died again even though she had been dead for many years now. I read the letter. And then because I didn’t believe what it said, I re-read it. And everything in my life changed.
I frowned. Or did it?…Did it really change what I was going to do? And, for that matter, what was I going to do?
I read the letter again, then put it back in the envelope and stuffed it in my pocket, my mind in a whirl. What to do what to do what to do…? I knew what I had to do; I had to try, though I wondered how I’d be able to stand it if I failed…
Well, the first thing I did was capture the bank robbers. There were three of them, and I found them camping out two nights later. I didn’t shoot them; if they had gone for their guns, I would have, but, as tempted as I was, and as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t just kill them in cold blood. So I tied them up and rode them into the next town.
“Here, sheriff, these fellows robbed the bank up in River Bend and killed at least three people, so you can put a rope around their necks if you want to. And here’s the money. You can handle it from here.” And I turned and started to walk away.
“Sheriff, this here fella is lyin’,” one of the outlaws said. “We was a-mindin’ our own business when he pulled a gun on us and brought us in. We didn’t rob no bank an’ kill nobody.”
“You just happen to carry a large sack of money with you wherever you go,” I said sarcastically.
“Well…yeah. Inny law ‘agin that?”
“Easy to solve this,” the sheriff said. “I’m going to lock all four of you up and send a wire to River Bend. If your story jives, mister, then I’ll let you go.” He said that last to me.
“Suits me,” I said. “Just bring me something to eat.” It would save me some money. And I headed toward the cells.
“Now wait a minute, sheriff,” one of the outlaws said, “You cain’t jest lock us up like this. We got rights, you know.”
“The only rights you have right now, fella, is to take a seat in that cell back there. I find this money very suspicious. If you’re innocent, you’ll be out soon enough.”
I could see one of the outlaws looking around desperately, obviously wanting to find a way to escape. “Don’t try it, buddy,” I said to him in a low voice. “You killed the sheriff and two other people and I’m just itching to get my hands around your scrawny neck.”
The sheriff had a gun on us and ushered us back to the cells. “Killed the sheriff?” he asked.
“Yeah, and at least two more. Maybe others, I don’t know.”
“Well, I’m sorry to hear about that. But I really do need to hold you…I mean, just in case. You understand…”
“Yes, it’s fine, sheriff. Like I said, bring me something to eat. I’ll take a nap while you wait for confirmation from River Bend.”
He had it before the end of the day. “You’re free to go, mister,” he said to me, unlocking the jail cell. Then, to the outlaws, “I’m keeping you here until the deputy up to River Bend arrives. Then you’re going to a neck-stretching party at which you fellows will be the most honored guests.” Then he spoke to me again. “Thanks for your help.”
I glanced at him while I strapped on my belt. “I was tempted to leave them out in the mountains for the buzzards to feed on, but that’s not the way things ought to be done, I reckon. Take care of them till Clint gets here.”
“You know the deputy up there?”
“Yeah. He’s a good man.” I put on my hat and turned to leave.
“One last question, fella,” the sheriff said.
I paused with my hand on the doorknob and looked back at him.
“Who are you?”
I gave him a wry grin. “An honest citizen, I guess, who wants to see justice done.”
“Yeah, but you got a name? You going back to River Bend? I reckon the bank might want to reward you for capturing these fellows.”
I paused, and dropped my head. “No, I’m not going back to River Bend. The bank can keep their money.” And with that I left.
I rode away. Where to go? What to do?....That decision wasn't long in coming.
I decided to do something I had to do.
Or do I?....
I smiled. Kelly had told me that Clint had a crush on Gail and so maybe she was giving him a chance. I had only seen Kelly once since the morning of the Perry attack, and I wouldn’t mind seeing her again.
"Ok, I’ll come and I’ll go ask Kelly. Not sure if she’ll be able to make it or not, but I’ll be there regardless.”
“Good.” She named a time and I went to the Atkins place to invite Kelly.
“Gail Sanders?” she asked, a bit nonplussed. “What’s going on?”
“I’ll tell you on the way. Get ready.”
“Well, I want to take a bath.”
“I do, too. Let’s go to town and do it and ride on out to the Sanders place from there.”
“Ok, but I’m going to wear jeans.”
“Those little short things you wore the day of the attack?”
“NO!” she exclaimed, and then laughed. “Pa told me to burn those.”
“Hmph. What a fuddy-duddy he is,” and she laughed again.
The dinner was splendid and we were all having a good time. All of us except poor Clint. He was star-struck with Gail Sanders, and he was so afraid of saying or doing something wrong. Gail tried to put him at ease—it seemed that she did like him, too—but Clint was all thumbs. And Gail was pretty—very—strong-willed, so old Clint was taking a drubbing. I glanced a couple of times at Kelly and saw her grimace. I thought maybe I needed to step in and help.
We were all sitting in the living room after supper. Kelly and I were on the couch, she to my right, and Clint and Gail sat on the love seat. Clint had just said something and Gail had cleaned his clock again. I winked at Kelly.
“Clint, ol’ boy, let me give you a piece of advice.”
He looked at me with a face that said “Please! Anything!”
"Women are nice to have around and all that, but sometimes they get to thinkin’ they’re as good as us men. And when they start thinkin’ that, there’s only one thing to do.” And with that, I grabbed Kelly, laid her across my left leg, pinned her legs with my right one, and patted her a few times on the bottom. In preparation.
“Sometimes this is the only language they understand, Clint,” I said to him.
Kelly was screeching at me. She had NOT expected this at all. “Don’t you dare! Let me up…I’ll scratch your eyes out…” She tried to wiggle but I had her pinned good, and when her hands came back, I grabbed her wrists with my left hand and held them in the small of her back.
“It’s a shame, Clint,” I said, patting Kelly’s upturned rear a few more times, “but it has to be…”
I proceeded to give Kelly a firm spanking—not hard enough to really hurt, but she screamed and shouted death threats and carried on like I was torturing her. “Oww…that hurt…Stop it, Robert Constance, right now…I mean it…do you hear me?… ooohw….you’re hurting me…”
“They’ll always say that,” I told Clint, and continued to smack Kelly’s behind.
I glanced at Clint and Gail. He was smiling; she was staring at Kelly’s backside getting smacked, her eyes as big as saucers. “Yes,” he said, “I think I get the idea…”
I stopped spanking Kelly for a moment. She was still screaming, but I smacked her hard and said “Hush.” She whimpered but went quiet. Clint was looking at Gail. “Yes,” he repeated, “I understand perfectly now…”
Gail did, too, and she got a horrified expression on her face. She jumped up. “Don’t you dare, Clint Bailor! I’ll never forgive you…”
“Ignore all that nonsense, Clint,” I told him.
He was on his feet now, smiling at her. She was backing up and he was coming towards her. “I mean it, Clint, don’t you do it. I’ll scream...”
“Go on, Clint. That woman needs it bad. Almost as bad as this one.” I smacked Kelly again and got an “ouch!” in return. “Will you let me up now?” she asked with obvious exasperation.
“Hush,” I told her again, emphasized with another swat.
I heard Gail squeal as Clint grabbed her. He sat on a chair and flipped Gail over his lap. She squirmed and hollered and threatened and did everything she could, but he was having the time of his life. And quite frankly, I didn’t get the impression that Gail Sanders was totally committed to getting away.
After a minute or so, he stopped and looked at me. “Yes. Thank you. I’ve seen the light.”
“There’s one more thing, though, Clint.”
“Oh? What’s that?”
Gail was still lying across his lap, kicking and struggling, and Kelly had gone passive across mine, but I could hear her mumbling threatenings and slaughter against my person….”just wait till I get up…you just wait, mister…” That sort of thing.
“Once you finish letting them know who’s boss, you need to do this…” And I jerked Kelly up, sat her next to me, put my arms around her, and kissed her, holding my lips on hers, and not letting go. She kicked, squirmed, pushed, and made all kinds of noises, but I kept kissing her…and kissing her…and kissing her….and I finally felt her hands on the back of my head and she started kissing me back in a fever of passion and desire. We didn’t break for 15 minutes, and when we did, we were both breathing hard. I flicked a glance at Clint and Gail—she was sitting in his lap and they were wrapped in a kiss of their own. Kelly and I grinned at each other. I whispered to her, “Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.”
She whispered, “I think it worked.”
“With you, too?”
She pulled me to her. “Especially with me…”
I was still staying in the River Bend Hotel and I got in late that night because I rode with Kelly to her house to make sure she got home safely. But even though it was late, I didn’t fall asleep immediately. I lay on my back with my hands under my head, looking up at the ceiling. Thinking. Kelly…she’s…sweet…kinda feisty…level-headed…I’d like to see her again… I rolled over onto my side but still didn’t close my eyes. I listened to the clock ticking the seconds away. I thought about Julie, my Julie, but I couldn’t go there, it hurt too much. I thought about Julie Ratliff, but not for long, though I had nothing but fond memories of her. I thought about…but I didn’t want to go there, either. I saw her. I saw her at the Indian camp. I saw her on that horse, with that man, being chased by those renegades…I actually saw her again…why didn’t I do something? Why didn’t I go to Whitewater? I rolled over onto my other side, the agony and frustration building. Oh, Robin, Robin… you’re the only one who could ever help me forget Julie…
But you’re gone forever, too…
I rolled onto my back again and stared at the ceiling once more. I sighed. Well, maybe Kelly…
There was a lot going on in Clearwater Valley, and most of it revolved around Gail Sanders. As noted, she had purchased Jim Perry’s land, the Circle P ranch, and also filed and bought her own land, just to make sure nobody ever squatted on it again. Those settlers who had been on her land were all willing to take more, and better, land on the other side of the river. So Gail had all her father’s land back. She had to put it all up as collateral—“mortgaged” it, as the bank referred to it—but, by selling off the old Circle P land, she hope to pay off the debt. She had asked me to stay around and help, and she agreed to pay me $100 a month if I would do so. I was beginning to need the money, so I decided I’d do it. Kelly Atkins might have influenced my decision a little bit as well, but I told myself the money was more important.
“What do you think I ought to do with all of Jim Perry’s stock, Robert?” Gail asked me a couple of days after the dinner related at the end of the previous section. “I’m pretty sure I don’t have enough grass here on Clearwater to support all of them.”
“Well, you’re getting ready to sell some of your own stock, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Sell some of his, too. It’s yours now. Bring what you think your grass will handle over to Clearwater, sell the best of the stock, and leave the rest on Circle P land. Then when people come and want to buy it, you’ve got another selling point—‘there’s already some stock on the range.’ You can even sell for a higher price that way.”
She smiled at me. “Thanks. That’s what I was thinking as well, but I just wanted your input. You think like a rancher.”
I smiled back at her. “Well, I told you I once was one.”
“Have you decided whether you want a plot of that land or not? I’ll give you a discount and I’m sure Kragan would loan you the money.”
It was a perfect situation, it really was. I loved that valley, and there was some very good grassland available—I could get 160 acres, there would already be cattle on the range, the people in River Bend thought I was the living end for what I had done to clear the place of riffraff like Jake Benton and Jim Perry, and there were a couple of pretty females that I could court. Yeah, Clint Bailor was making a play at Gail Sanders and I wasn’t going to monkey with another man’s monkey, but she and he weren’t a done deal yet and I wasn’t convinced they ever would be. Besides, Kelly Atkins was still available and we had parted on very good terms after the dinner two nights previous.
So, like I said, a perfect situation. I had a new identity, nobody knew I was a wanted man, I could get a good piece of land and start ranching again, and I could probably end up with a wife out of the deal, and maybe the biggest ranch in the valley.
Thus, my response was, “I’m not sure yet. I’m still thinking about it.”
What was there to think about? Intellectually, nothing. Logically, it was ideal. But emotionally…am I ready to go back to ranching? Would it remind me too much of Julie? Am I ready to get married again? It hasn’t even been a year…would it be fair to Kelly or Gail—IF either of them would have me...
And I had the same problem Robin had…Kelly was…all woman…Julie Ratliff was, too…but can anyone ever replace my Julie…Gail?…she’s pretty strong-willed, I don’t know if I like that, although she’s seem to mellow some now Perry isn’t around…maybe Clint can handle her now…well, I’ll just stay around here. It’s a good place to live, and good place to grow, a good place to raise a family…I’ll forget about Robin soon enough…
Then I sighed. Who are you trying to fool, Conners?…what difference does any of that make?…but Robin’s gone…she’s gone forever…she’s gone, gone, gone…
I could tell myself that. But telling myself and believing it weren’t always the same thing.
Over the next few weeks, I helped round up the cattle on the Circle P that Gail wanted to sell. She had two large herds to send to market, so she needed to hire a few more men to drive them to the railhead before it got too cold. The nearest rail line was only 200 miles away, so it wasn’t a big drive, but it needed to be done now. I volunteered to go on one of the drives, but Gail wanted me to stay around River Bend. She wanted me to help move the stock from Circle P over to her grass. There was also some hay to cut and store for the winter, and I was involved in that. It was starting to get cold now, and we were trying to get all the stock we could bunched together to make for easier feeding. There was a lot of work to do and I stayed busy. Gail paid me too much, but that was the figure she had given me at the restaurant that first day, even though at the time she had wanted to hire my gun. But I had helped her in other ways—more on that in a moment—so I guess the $100 a month was her way of rewarding me. And paying me for some extra work.
She did very well on the cattle sales and was able to pay off a nice part of her loan to Kragan. That was a big relief to her. It was quite obvious that Gail was financially a worry-wart, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. I was pretty much a tightwad myself, though I’d gone through that $1,400 I’d taken from the drummer and gambler pretty quickly. Of course, $400 of that had gone for Robin’s horse, and another $500 to pay off the rest of the Atkins loan. So I had been down to less than $200 before Gail started paying me. And she gave me room and board, too.
“I want you to stay in the house,” she said.
“Why? What will the other hands say?”
“I don’t really care. Well, maybe I should. But I’m paying you more, so you’ll do more. You can work the books, too, you’ve done that, I suppose.”
Joy. “Yes, I have.”
“Ok. So you’ll not only work the fields, you handle my books, too. That gives you the right to have a room in the house.” Many was the night, however, that I slept out under the stars. It was simply too far to go the Gail’s house each night, only to turn around the next morning and go back out to the range. I figured I’d earn the $100 a month.
I actually saw more of Kelly Atkins than I did Gail Sanders, mainly because I spent so much time on the range. A few days after the dinner with Gail and Clint, I went up to the Atkins cabin just to see how the two of them were. Kelly was there, but Fred wasn’t. “He’s out with the cows.” She smiled at me. “I didn’t expect to see you again.”
“Why not?”
She shrugged. “You sounded like you were going to leave the valley.”
I shook my head. “No, Gail hired me,” and I told her about the whole situation.
“Oh,” she replied, a little distant. I didn’t want that.
“Can we meet for lunch sometime? Tomorrow, maybe?”
She hesitated. “You sure?”
“Kelly, there’s nothing between me and Gail, I promise you that.”
I’m not sure she believed me, but she said, “Well, ok. Tomorrow will be fine.”
“Wear those little short cut-offs again.”
She laughed. “I told you my dad ordered me to burn those.”
“But the question is, did you?”
She smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I camped by a stream that night and laid my nice blanket out to sleep on. Sleep didn’t come easily. I remembered another time, not too many months ago, when I lay on that blanket…near a stream…no, Conners, don’t go there…don’t think about her…don’t….I sighed, my emotions in turmoil. Why…why do I think of Robin before I think of Julie? It shouldn’t be that way… I only knew her 24 hours…how can anyone get so deep…I rolled onto my side. Maybe Kelly can help…I did like Kelly, a lot…but can she be Ro—Julie? Another sigh.
And not much sleep.
Kelly and I actually met for lunch nearly every day for the next couple of weeks. “Pa wants me to come into town every day anyway and get our mail. And also ride some of the horses, give them some exercise. So it’s no trouble.” There were a few days when I was just too far out on the range to make it to town, but I usually could. A couple of times I just took the afternoon off and we walked around town, doing a little shopping.
“I still have some of that money left you threw at me that first day,” she said with a laugh. “But we were able to sell some stock recently and got a good price, so we’re pretty well set, money-wise, for awhile. We don’t really buy much in town anyway.” She shrugged. “We grow our own vegetables. Dad occasionally slaughters a hog or kills a deer for meat. We have eggs from the chickens, milk, butter, and cheese from a milk cow, and there are a lot of wild fruit trees growing on our land. I’ve canned a lot of stuff, so we have plenty to eat. It’s just nice to have a new dress or something occasionally.”
I smiled. “I’m sure it is. Have you been practicing with your new rifle?”
“Uh huh. Every time some cowboy comes up the path I get a lot of practice.”
I laughed. “You run all the men off?”
She made a face. “There are a lot of misnamed cowboys in this valley. They should be called ‘wolves.’” And I laughed again.
We went into the clothing store; I wanted to buy a new shirt and a pair of pants. I picked out two shirts I really liked, and a pair of jeans, and then walked over to where Kelly was. She, of course, was browsing through the women’s section and when I joined her, she held up a lovely red dress and asked, “Do you think this would look good on me?”
I thought it would look marvelous on her and I told her so. It had short sleeves and was cut below the neck, but not too low, with a red belt and flared skirt. “It’s got this hat that goes with it,” she said, showing me a cute, round-topped, wide-brimmed straw hat with a red cloth ribbon band around it.
“Is it your size?” I asked her.
She made a face. “Yeah. It would be.”
“Well, try it on.”
“Check this price.” I read the tag. $10. That was high, even with the hat.
“Oh, miss, these shoes go with it,” a saleslady came over and showed her a pair of red shoes. “I’m sure we’d have your size.”
“It’s still too expensive,” Kelly said. “My pa would rawhide me if I bought this.”
I told her, “I’m going to rawhide you if you don’t try it on. So do you want it now or wait till later? Besides, you may not like it once you get it on.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “I know what you’ve got in mind, Robert Constance, and I don’t like it.”
I started to take off my belt. “Ok, ok,” she said, “I’ll go try it on. But you aren’t buying it for me, and that’s final.” I smiled and winked at the saleslady.
Before Kelly went into the dressing room, the saleslady asked what shoe size she wore. Kelly told her, and the lady went to see if they had her size. Kelly went on into the dressing room, and a couple of minutes later, the saleslady came out with a shoe box. She shoved the box under the door where Kelly was changing. “Try these on, they’re your size.”
“Ok.”
I made a motion for the saleslady to come over to me. “$10 for the whole thing?” I whispered the question to her.
“Yes. But I’ll give it to her for 9.”
I gave her $9. “If she doesn’t like it, give it back to me.” She smiled and nodded.
Kelly came out a couple of minutes later, dress, shoes, and hat, and she looked absolutely delightful. She spun around, a smile on her face, then checked herself in a mirror. “I don’t know,” she said, turning this way and that.
“It’s absolutely adorable, Kelly,” I told her. And the saleslady echoed my words.
She seemed pleased. “You think so?” But it was pretty obvious that she had fallen in love with it.
“Do you like it?”
She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter, I can’t afford it.” Her eyes blazed at me. “And you can’t, either.”
The saleslady stepped in. “Oh, didn’t I tell you? Every day, just as a marketing ploy, we give away one outfit for free, and that’s the one today. Oh my, I forgot to mark it. But that’s the free outfit.”
Kelly wasn’t stupid by any stretch of the imagination, and she gave the saleslady a “Come on, do you think I’m an idiot?” look.
“Honest,” the saleslady said, all innocence.
Kelly gave me a very annoyed look. “You gave her $10, didn’t you.”
“No, I did not give this woman $10. I resent the accusation.” And, of course, I hadn’t given her $10. I’d given her $9.
Now Kelly was puzzled. “Free? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
“I told you, a marketing thing. And I’m sure you’ll come back and do a lot of shopping with us because of it. Do you like the dress, dear?”
“Oh, I love it, it’s gorgeous, but…”
“Then it’s yours. Go change back into your other clothes and I’ll box it all up for you.”
Kelly looked helpless. I almost laughed. “But…my dad will think I bought it and he’ll be livid.”
“I’ll go up there with you, if you want me to, and tell him that you didn’t. You really got lucky, with this store offer.”
She looked skeptical again. “Yeah. I sure did. I don’t know what you did, but whatever it is, I don’t like it.”
“Well, blame the store. Go change, I don’t want to stand around here all day.”
She started to say something, but just turned and went back into the changing room. She came out a few minutes later and handed everything to the saleslady. “I need to go pay for my stuff,” I said to Kelly. She was still looking at me accusingly.
I asked the saleslady, “Are you having the same deal on any men’s clothing today?”
“Yes, but I’m sorry, not in your sizes.”
“Tough break.”
Kelly stood next to me, watching me, as I counted out exactly how much the shirt and pants cost. She still hadn’t figured it out. The lady put Kelly’s clothes in boxes, then placed them all in a big sack with a handle on it. “I hope you enjoy it, dear.”
“I will, thank you.” She smiled.
The lady handed me my bag of stuff and Kelly and I left.
We walked down the sidewalk a little ways silently, and then she said, “How did you do that?”
“Do what?”
“You gave her the money while I was in the dressing room, didn’t you.”
“I told you, I never gave that woman $10.”
“I don’t believe you.”
I turned to her, and grabbed her by the upper arms. “Do you like that dress?”
“You know I do. I’ve never seen a dress I liked more. But I didn’t want you to buy it for me.”
“Well, then, give me something in return.”
“What?”
I leaned down and kissed her. “That,” I said smiling. “And believe me, I think a kiss from you is priceless.”
“Oh, Robert.” I could see tears in her eyes. She dropped her head. “Thank you.” Then she looked back up at me. “And thank you for paying off the rest of the note on our land. I know you did it. We would have lost it otherwise and it would have killed my father. He loves that land so much.”
“What makes you think—“
“Robert, please don’t.”
I looked into her eyes, then nodded. “I’m thirsty. How about a glass of lemonade?”
She tried to smile. “Ok.”
We went to a nearby restaurant and ordered. As we sat there, she seemed a little despondent. “What’s the matter?” I asked her.
“Robert, I…you…you just shouldn’t. My dad and I don’t want charity. I mean, if we can’t earn it. Dad has been trying to find out who paid that note so he can repay them. We don’t want it this way. Like the dress. And the rifle.” She twirled her straw in her lemonade glass.
“Kelly.”
She glanced at me.
“Don’t you dare tell me you and your father wouldn’t do the same thing for somebody, given the opportunity.”
She looked back down.
“What is life for if we can’t help other people occasionally?”
She said nothing.
“Besides, I owed you the rifle because I destroyed your shotgun. I didn’t pay for your land just for yours and your father’s sake. There were a whole lot deeper issues involved in this valley and somebody needed to do something and I was in a position to do it. And, blast it, I can buy you a dress for your birthday if I bloody well want to.”
I saw her start to smile. “It’s not my birthday.”
“Well, you’ll have one before this time next year.”
She tried not to laugh. “You still shouldn’t have done it.”
“Well, I did and there’s nothing you can do about it now. And if you ever tell your father I paid that note, I’ll never speak to you again.”
She was smiling now. “But you fibbed to me.”
“When?”
“You said you didn’t buy me the dress.”
“No, I did not say that. I said I didn’t give that woman $10. And I didn’t.”
“Well, what did you give her?”
“A promise. She works at the joy house down the street at night.”
Kelly busted out laughing.
I smiled. “You aren’t supposed to ask what somebody paid for your birthday present.”
“Well, it was too much, whatever it was.”
“That, my dear Kelly, is purely a matter of opinion, and one with which I wholly disagree.”
And she lowered her head again. “Thank you, Robert.”
“You’re welcome. You through? Come on, let’s get you home.”
“You don’t have to go with me, I can make it on my own.”
“I know that.” I grinned at her. “But don’t you want me to be there when you show your dad that new outfit?”
She smiled. “Yeah, I guess so. I want you to be there tonight when I wear it and fix dinner for you.”
“Well, then, I’ll be there…”
Most nights I camped out where I mentioned a few pages ago—under a huge willow tree near a creek that had good water. It was simply much closer than going all the way back to Gail’s house every night. I did go back to the house on weekends; she’d hired me to do her books, so I spent some time on Saturday and Sunday with that. Kelly had asked me about where I stayed each night, and I told her where I camped. And the night after I had dinner at the Atkins home, I had a big surprise waiting for me when I got to the camp.
I saw Kelly. She was dressed as she had been on the morning of Perry’s attack—cut-off jeans, and a shirt hardly buttoned and with the bottom tied in a knot under her breasts. Even more interesting was her position. A rope had been cast over a branch about 20 feet over her head. Her arms were stretched above her head, and her wrists were tied. The other end of the rope was tied to the base of the tree. She stood there, looking at me, a helpless, pleading expression on her face.
“What in the world…?” I muttered as I rode closer, searching both directions for possible danger.
But there wasn’t any.
“Oh, please, m’lord,” Kelly wailed. “I beg of your gracious heart that you will forgive me. Please. I know I deserve punishment, but I throw myself upon your mercy and beg clemency, not justice.”
I caught on immediately to the—very sensuous—game she was playing. I rode up closer. “Ha. Female knave. So. You’ve been caught trespassing on my land again, no doubt with the intent of stealing from my flocks or vineyards.”
She shook her head violently. “No, no, no, m’lord, I would never steal from you. I beg of you to believe me. I am innocent. I did not know…”
“Hush, peasant! Of course you knew.” I got down off my horse and stood about 20 feet from her. “The only question is the type and severity of your punishment.”
“Oh, m’lord, mercy, mercy! I am a loyal subject of yours and I would never want to displease you.”
I walked up to her and looked down at her. Wow, she looks good…”I see. After you get caught being disloyal, you suddenly become loyal. A suitable punishment for attempted theft…is to take something of value from you….”
“Please, no, m’lord. I won’t do it again. I promise I won’t. Please do not punish me.” She was playing her part perfectly. And incredibly seductively.
Her eyes looked into mine, and I didn’t see much penance. Then she smiled wickedly and jerked on the ropes over her head. And a second later I got drenched in water as a great big balloon filled with the stuff landed on my head and burst.
“Why you little imp…” I said, shaking the water off me as best I could.
Kelly laughed and laughed and laughed. And she didn't stop laughing as I tickled her ruthlessly...
I released her from her fetters and told her to go get some clothes on, “Before I…before I….”
She was smiling and her eyes were laughing. “Before you what, Mr. Tough Guy?” Standing there, hands on her hips, legs spread…Yeah, seductive…
I gave her a perplexed look. “I thought you said you burned that outfit.”
“I didn’t say that. I said my father told me to.” And she laughed again.
I laughed, too, went over to her, and started to put my arms around her. But she pushed me away. “Ooo, you're all wet. Why did you go swimming with your clothes on?”
I growled at her and started to take off my belt. She squealed and ran off behind some bushes. In a few moments, she came back—wearing the lovely red dress I had bought her.
“Now you go change,” she said, “and I’ll think about letting you put your arms around me.”
I changed clothes. And she thought about it. Long and hard. And while she was thinking about it, I was doing it…
Kelly wasn’t through with her little tricks. The next night I arrived at the camp I saw her lying on a blanket, spread eagle, and staked to ground. She was wearing that red and black shirt with jeans that she had on the first day I saw her. “Oh, sir, thank you for coming by. Oh, I am so happy…I was captured by a band of outlaws. They staked me here and said they were going into town to get some spirits and rob the bank and then they would return. If you had not come by, surely they would have abused me all night long…”
I stood about 30 feet from her . “I’m not about to come anywhere near you, girl. I have no desire to have a gallon of water dumped on me again.”
She laughed. “No water, I promise.”
I looked up. She wasn’t under a tree. I walked around her, in a circle, searching for some kind of trap. “Hurry,” she said. “Untie me before those outlaws get back.”
“I’m a whole lot more worried about you than I am about them.”
She giggled. “There’s nothing, Robert. Just me.”
I sighed. I couldn’t see anything, but that didn’t mean…
I walked over to her and started untying her, ankles first. “If this is some kind of trap, girl…”
“No trap. Just me. That’s all. Just me.”
I wasn’t sure I believed her, but when I finished untying her wrists, she reached up, grabbed me, rolled me over, and looked down at me. Smiling.
“See? Just me…”
Just her. All night long….
I couldn’t help but ask the next morning, “How in the world did you get tied to those stakes like that?”
She smiled. “I told you…Outlaws.” Then she sighed and laid her head against me. “My hero,” she said in a mock fawning voice.
I grunted, sat up, and pulled on my boots. “I’ve got to get to work….”
People in River Bend asked me when Kelly and I were going to get married. “What’re ye waitin’ fer, feller? You’d have the jewel o’ the valley. Man, don’t let her get away…” I wasn’t sure if Kelly seriously considered me as husband material, or if I was just a playmate for her. We continued to have lunch together, frequently, and we enjoyed each other’s company. But I didn’t have a total read on her. And I wasn’t sure about her, either, for my own sake, though I had just about made up my mind to ask her to marry me. She was an enjoyable companion, but…night after night I lay awake…Kelly IS wonderful…but she isn’t Julie…yet…and she isn’t…Robin…I closed my eyes, remembered another tree, another stream, same blanket…Robin…why can’t I forget you?…but I will, I know I will…I’ll forget her…or at least the memories will dull… I grunted a chuckle and shook my head. Yeah, maybe…but it doesn’t matter…I can’t go back…Julie is dead, and Robin might as well be…I’ll just stay here, get a ranch like Gail suggested....should I marry Kelly?...I wasn't sure. I was afraid of something...I hope Robin doesn’t come between us….Robin…always Robin now….
The next time I saw Kelly—well, I didn’t see her until too late. She had climbed way up in a tree, and dumped a load of dirt on my head. And then made me come after her. I chased her all over that tree before I finally caught her, and when I did, I draped her over a branch and worked her backside over good. I think she giggled the whole time. I never could spank her hard enough to keep her from laughing at me. We were up in that tree and talked about our future together, and decided that we shouldn't get married. Kelly was only 19 and told me that she just didn't think she was ready. After Julie and Robin, I didn't think I was, either. As much as I adored Kelly, so much—perhaps too much—of my heart still belonged to Julie, and maybe even more than her, to Robin, which just didn’t compute to me at all. How can I love that woman so much when I spent so little time with her? So we both agreed that it wasn't the time for marriage.
I left Clearwater Valley soon after. The bank had been robbed and the outlaws killed the sheriff, and a couple other people. Clint was going to raise a posse and go after them, but I told him I'd go get them, and since the sheriff was dead and Clint didn't think he should leave town, he let me. So I chased them. I checked in with Gail first, and she paid me off, but invited me back if I wanted to come. I wouldn’t go back to River Bend, I knew that. The outlaws had headed south and I was going to find them, even if they ended up in Rogersville and got me a rope around my neck. I don't know why I was so dead-set on finding these guys; the sheriff in River Bend was a first class jerk. But I promised his deputy and, frankly, I was ready to leave the area anyway.
Following them wasn’t difficult, and I wasn’t in any hurry. I came to a town that they had passed through just a day or so before me—I didn’t even know the name of the place—and I got a huge surprise.
“Mr. Constance!”
I turned and saw a face I recognized. “Sergeant McCoy. What are you doing so far away from Fort Tyler?”
He walked up to me and actually saluted. “I was looking for you, sir.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope. “Colonel Ratliff wanted me to deliver this to you, regardless of how long it took to find you. I don’t know what’s in it, sir, but I reckon it must be important for him to give me the orders he did.”
“I guess so,” I said, taking the envelope from him. “Thank you for your diligence, Sergeant.”
He stepped back, saluted, and said, “Colonel Ratliff said there would be no reason for me to stay with you once you received the letter. With your permission, sir, I’ll head immediately back to Fort Tyler.”
I wished he’d quit “sirring” me, but I threw him a salute and said, “Carry on, Sergeant. Give the colonel…and his daughter…my regards.”
“Yessir.” One more salute, and he turned on his heel and was gone.
I slit open the envelope; in the frame of mind I was in, I figured it had to be more bad news. Something like my mother had died again even though she had been dead for many years now. I read the letter. And then because I didn’t believe what it said, I re-read it. And everything in my life changed.
I frowned. Or did it?…Did it really change what I was going to do? And, for that matter, what was I going to do?
I read the letter again, then put it back in the envelope and stuffed it in my pocket, my mind in a whirl. What to do what to do what to do…? I knew what I had to do; I had to try, though I wondered how I’d be able to stand it if I failed…
Well, the first thing I did was capture the bank robbers. There were three of them, and I found them camping out two nights later. I didn’t shoot them; if they had gone for their guns, I would have, but, as tempted as I was, and as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t just kill them in cold blood. So I tied them up and rode them into the next town.
“Here, sheriff, these fellows robbed the bank up in River Bend and killed at least three people, so you can put a rope around their necks if you want to. And here’s the money. You can handle it from here.” And I turned and started to walk away.
“Sheriff, this here fella is lyin’,” one of the outlaws said. “We was a-mindin’ our own business when he pulled a gun on us and brought us in. We didn’t rob no bank an’ kill nobody.”
“You just happen to carry a large sack of money with you wherever you go,” I said sarcastically.
“Well…yeah. Inny law ‘agin that?”
“Easy to solve this,” the sheriff said. “I’m going to lock all four of you up and send a wire to River Bend. If your story jives, mister, then I’ll let you go.” He said that last to me.
“Suits me,” I said. “Just bring me something to eat.” It would save me some money. And I headed toward the cells.
“Now wait a minute, sheriff,” one of the outlaws said, “You cain’t jest lock us up like this. We got rights, you know.”
“The only rights you have right now, fella, is to take a seat in that cell back there. I find this money very suspicious. If you’re innocent, you’ll be out soon enough.”
I could see one of the outlaws looking around desperately, obviously wanting to find a way to escape. “Don’t try it, buddy,” I said to him in a low voice. “You killed the sheriff and two other people and I’m just itching to get my hands around your scrawny neck.”
The sheriff had a gun on us and ushered us back to the cells. “Killed the sheriff?” he asked.
“Yeah, and at least two more. Maybe others, I don’t know.”
“Well, I’m sorry to hear about that. But I really do need to hold you…I mean, just in case. You understand…”
“Yes, it’s fine, sheriff. Like I said, bring me something to eat. I’ll take a nap while you wait for confirmation from River Bend.”
He had it before the end of the day. “You’re free to go, mister,” he said to me, unlocking the jail cell. Then, to the outlaws, “I’m keeping you here until the deputy up to River Bend arrives. Then you’re going to a neck-stretching party at which you fellows will be the most honored guests.” Then he spoke to me again. “Thanks for your help.”
I glanced at him while I strapped on my belt. “I was tempted to leave them out in the mountains for the buzzards to feed on, but that’s not the way things ought to be done, I reckon. Take care of them till Clint gets here.”
“You know the deputy up there?”
“Yeah. He’s a good man.” I put on my hat and turned to leave.
“One last question, fella,” the sheriff said.
I paused with my hand on the doorknob and looked back at him.
“Who are you?”
I gave him a wry grin. “An honest citizen, I guess, who wants to see justice done.”
“Yeah, but you got a name? You going back to River Bend? I reckon the bank might want to reward you for capturing these fellows.”
I paused, and dropped my head. “No, I’m not going back to River Bend. The bank can keep their money.” And with that I left.
I rode away. Where to go? What to do?....That decision wasn't long in coming.
I decided to do something I had to do.
Or do I?....
Chapter Nine—Selling Out
I had left River Bend the first part of December. After I captured the three bank robbers, I thought about going back there, but I didn't; I couldn’t go back to Rogersville because of Julie. I couldn’t go to Whitewater because I feared rejection by Robin; that was six months ago, she’s long forgotten me by now. Frankly, I thought I was losing my mind. People lose loved ones all the time and stay in the same place. Why can’t I go back to Rogersville? Or River Bend? Or even Whitewater?
I consoled myself with the thought that I had been hit very hard the last year and thus was an emotional wreck. I didn’t know if that would wash psychologically or not. Or if I was just being weak. All I knew was I didn’t want to go back to Rogersville because of the memories. And I was scared to go to Whitewater for fear that there might be even more pain. I’d had enough of that. I’d thought I could never, never hurt as bad as I did when Julie died. I think I missed Kelly more than I admitted to myself, but I also thought that was probably because my heart had never completely healed from Julie and had taken another blow with Robin. I really felt that, if I went to Whitewater and found Robin married or not wanting me, I’d probably blow my brains out. And suicidal I was not.
But how long can a man live in wretched agony?
Am I making excuses? I didn’t know. I just knew how I felt and I would have given anything to change it.
I even considered going to Denver to see if I could find Julie Ratliff. But what would I do in Denver? And what if SHE had found somebody else? I even laughed at myself on that one. Conners, you’re so skittish you’re scared of your own shadow. I needed to find something to do and find it in a hurry.
You see, I could have gone back to Rogersville now. And even gotten my ranch back. The letter that Sergeant McCoy had brought me was a full pardon from the territorial governor. Colonel Benjamin Ratliff had asked the governor to give me one based on the help I had given in the Indian attack, and when the governor had looked more closely into the situation, he found out that, given all the circumstances, I had pretty well been railroaded into becoming an outlaw. He pardoned me and demanded that Martin Brant, Wilson’s son, give me back my 160 acres, and also return to their rightful owners any other land the Brants had taken from farmers and ranchers in that valley, and pay for damages caused. I could go home, get my ranch back, and insist that Martin Brant rebuild my house and barn and replenish my stock. I could pick up right where I had left off.
Except with a grave of my wife on my land. Could I live with that? I didn’t know. But I thought that I ought to be man enough to at least go down there and find out. If I couldn’t handle it, I’d sell my land and move on somewhere else.
So to Rogersville I headed. And I bypassed Whitewater on the way.
But not easily. About noon, I stopped at that same hill where Robin and I had departed that first day—second, if you count the night before—and wistfully looked down at the town. It was cold, snowing lightly. I could go down there…It was Christmas Day. That would be a wonderful present for me. I closed my eyes and turned Ol’ Paint away.
“I can’t do it yet, boy, I just can’t do it yet,” I told him.
I was in Rogersville by the end of the year. And by the 10th of January, Martin Brant, operating under a court order, had agreed to give me back my 160 acres, build me a ranch house with a barn, fill it full of hay, and give me 50 horses and 100 cows, plus a few chicken and a couple of pigs.
I went out to Julie’s grave. I stood there, looking down at it, trying hard not to cry. I didn’t. But it was hard, very hard, so very hard that I had to turn away in less than five minutes.
I tried to think of something else, and when I wanted to try to get Julie out of my mind, I turned my thoughts to…Robin. As I rode away from Julie’s grave, I remembered that stage robbery…taking her with me…her sarcastic, but lovely, sense of humor…her beautiful smile…She was just…different. Different…different…I loved my Julie more than I could ever say…I adored Julie Ratliff, though I don’t know if I really loved her…Kelly…yes, I had come to adore Kelly in the few months I had known her….But…
And I shook my head and even laughed a bit. The one who helps me forget Julie the most is the one I spent maybe 24 hours with.
Conners, you HAVE lost your mind…
I went over that last part kinda fast, so let me back up a bit. I made it into Rogersville on Friday, December 28 and found Ol’ Paint a stall at the town stable. He needed the rest after hauling me the several hundred miles from River Bend.
“Well, bless my ol’ wicked soul, if it ain’t Rob Conners,” Tug Dyson, the old goat at the stable said to me. “You got lots a’ guts comin’ back here. I don’ reckon the sheriff’s forgotten ye none, so he’s liable to toss yore carcass into the hoosegow.”
I smiled at him. “Tug, you mean you people haven’t elected another sheriff yet? Dixon is about as worthless as a whore at a eunuch convention.”
He chuckled. “I knowed that jest like you do, but the Brants’s’still got the money. You shore put a crimp in their style, though, I tell ye. Martin ain’t half the snake his ol’ man was.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “What brings you back, son? Sere’sly, Dixon will ‘rrest you as soon as he sees you.”
“No, he won’t.” I pulled the governor’s letter out of my pocket and handed it to Tug. “Can you read?”
“You bet I can, boy. Better’n you, I bet.” He read the letter, then let out a cackle and slapped his knee. “Well, congratulations, boy. This’ll sure rustle up some ‘citement round here, that’s fer sure. I’d love to see Dixon’s eyes, or better yet, Martin Brant’s when he reads this. His eyeballs’ll pop outta his noggin, fer shore. Watch ‘im, though, he’s still got a sidewinder ‘r two on his payroll. You gonna git your land back?”
I took the letter back from him. “I might. Or at least sell it. Not sure I can hang around here, Tug. Memories of Julie are still awful strong.”
“Yeah, kin unnerstan’ that. Still miss my Annie ‘n it’s been past fifteen years now. Well, good luck to ye. I’ll take care of Ol’ Paint fer ye, don’t fret yoreself none about him.”
“Thanks, Tug.”
I headed towards the hotel to get a room, and then I intended to go straight to the courthouse and show the sheriff this pardon letter I had received. Then I’d show it to Judge Connelly, who was a fair man, and I was hoping he’d slap an order on Brant to give me my land back. The letter said he was supposed to, and I was sure Connelly would support me. Or at least I hoped he would.
I got a few looks as I walked to the hotel. People knew me. But nobody stopped me or said anything. The clerk at the hotel was new in town, but when I signed the roster “Robert Conners,” he frowned.
“You the Conners wanted by the law around here?”
“That’s me,” I said.
“Hear you did the town a favor then got railroaded for it.”
“Something like that.”
“Sheriff won’t like seeing you here.”
“I’ve got a surprise for that…for that nice man who does such a wonderful job upholding the law in this town.”
The clerk grunted a laugh. “Good luck. Room 6, up the stairs to your right.”
I put my gear in the room and headed straight for the courthouse. This time I did get a couple of people stop me.
“Rob! What are you doing back in town? Don’t you know you’re still wanted around here?”
“Yeah, but I got a pardon from the governor, so everything is ok.”
“Hmph. You never should have needed one in the first place. You gonna confront Martin Brant?”
I smiled. “I won’t have to. I’m going to let the law do it for me.”
“Dixon ain’t gonna help you.”
“He won’t have any choice, unless he wants to be in contempt of court.”
I walked into the sheriff’s office. Sheriff Wayne Dixon was sitting at his desk, doing some paperwork. When he saw me, a surprised look came over his face. “Rob Conners!” He jumped up and went for his gun. “You’re under arrest,” he said.
“Take a leap, Dixon,” I said to him, and handed him the pardon letter.
He read it and his face clouded up. “Your bankrollers aren’t going to like it, are they?” I said, with a harsh laugh. “You’re going to have to enforce the law for a change.”
He growled and shoved the letter back at me. “I’ll do what I have to.”
“I’m sure you will. Just stay off my back.” I left his office and went to see Judge Connelly. He was shocked to see me as well but didn’t appear to be angry or upset about it.
“Hello, Rob,” he said. He was an older, distinguished looking gentlemen, with white hair, rough complexion, but clean shaven. “Kinda surprised to see you here, but I reckon you probably have a good reason.” I’d always liked Connelly, he seemed to be a good man, but he would do his job and uphold the law.
“I think so, Judge.” I handed him the letter.
“What you got here?” he asked, then started reading it with a thoughtful expression on his face. As he got farther on, he began to smile. When he finished, he set it down with a huge grin on his face. “Hot doggie, Conners, I’ve been wanting to bring those Brants down about ten pegs for years, but never could do it. This is perfect.”
“Will you give me a court order demanding the Brants give me back my land?”
“You better believe I will, and everybody else’s land they stole. Not only will they give you your land back, but they’ll rebuild your house and barn and restock your ranch for you.”
“Can you make them do that?”
“Governor’s a personal friend of mine. I’ll wire him and make sure he knows what’s going on.”
“Brant will hire a lawyer to try to get an injunction.”
“I’ll slap an injunction on their injunction. I’ll make it so expensive for them to go to court that it would be cheaper for them to settle out of court and rebuild your place.”
I smiled. “Thanks, Judge. I always did think you were a good man.”
“And I was always glad you planted Wilson Brant, too. Off the record, that is,” he chuckled. “I hated you had to do it, but I’m glad you left the area. If the matter had gone to court, I’m afraid the verdict would have come back guilty and I would have had to hang you…”
Well, to cut to the quick, Connelly issued the court order that very day and had Dixon deliver it to Brant immediately. Since it was a holiday weekend, nothing could be done until the following Wednesday, January 2. Sure enough, Brant hired a lawyer to get an injunction against the court order, but of course, Judge Connelly rejected it.
“This man,” he said, referring to me, “legally bought and paid for 160 acres of land. By right of ownership and pardon, that land is still his. Martin Brant has been feeding his cattle on Conners’ grass for the past several months, in effect, stealing grass that isn’t his. And Brant has also been doing it on land owned by other settlers, without a proper permit. I hereby declare that, because Martin Brant has been illegally using the Conners’ grass, he immediately withdraw all stock from that land, and in payment for the grass taken, rebuild the Conners house, barn, and fence, and provide all the stock, with interest, that was lost to Mr. Conners in the tragedy that befell him 14 months ago. It is hereby so ordered by this court.” He banged his gavel.
Brant’s lawyer jumped up. “Judge Connelly, you can’t do that.”
“Just did it, Mr. Winters. One more word out of you and I’ll hold you in contempt of court. And if the court might give you some advice, start representing honest people instead of dishonest ones. This court is adjourned.” And he arose and left the room.
The courtroom had been packed, though there was no trial, just Judge Connelly’s pronouncement, which was a little longer than related above. After the session, everyone came up to me, congratulating me. Nobody went over to Martin Brant, who walked out of the courtroom. But he was waiting for me outside.
“This isn’t over, Conners,” he said.
“No, it’s not, Brant, not until you obey the court order. I’ll have an architect send you plans for the house and barn I want, and I’ll also provide you an inventory of the stock your father destroyed so that you can replace it. With some numbers added to account for the natural growth that would have taken place. And I’m going to put up ‘No Trespassing’ signs all along my fence and if I ever see one Brant thug on my property again, I’ll be the last person who ever sees him. You got that, buster?”
“That sounds like a threat, Conners.”
I walked over to him. I was taller than he so I looked down at him. “Brant, please, please show up on my property some day soon.”
It was quite clear he didn’t want to. He turned and walked away. I never saw him again.
But work on the new ranch house and barn began the following week and all the livestock I demanded had arrived by the end of the month.
I had let it be known that I might not want to stay in the area. Even with my thoughts of Robin, the feelings for Julie were still very powerful, especially when I was on the ranch. But I wasn’t sure yet. I’d entertain offers for my property and if I received one I liked, then I might just take it.
But could I leave Julie for good? But could I stay and see her grave every day? Good grief, what a dilemma…
I met a man towards the end of January who was interested in “perhaps purchasing a ranch in the area.”
I shook his hand. “Rob Conners.”
“Adam Stouffer.”
I took him out to the ranch. We talked on the way. He told me about himself and I related my story to him.
“Great Caesar’s ghost,” he said. “And they let Brant get away with all that?”
“The law can be bought, as I’m sure you know.”
“Yes,” he replied. “Yes, that’s true. Do you think Brant will give any more trouble?”
I thought on that. “I really don’t think so, Mr. Stouffer, but, of course, I can’t say for sure. They still have the largest ranch in the area and Martin Brant probably thinks he stole it all fair and square. But the judge came down pretty hard on him a few weeks ago. Frankly, I’ll be a little surprised if Brant ever tries anything again. Martin Brant doesn’t have the salt his old man had and I think he’s a little intimidated by Judge Connelly. And I also think there will be a new sheriff in town by the end of the year, one not bought with Brant money. The town isn’t going to stand for that any more.”
The ranch house and barn weren’t near complete yet; in fact, with the weather, it might be late spring before they were. But I showed Adam the plans and he was impressed. He gave me a wry grin. “Not sure I need a house quite that big, but maybe I’ll get married some day and have a wife and kids to put into one.”
“How old are you, Mr. Stouffer?”
“28.”
“Oh, you’ve got plenty of time.”
“I reckon.”
We rode around the place. It didn’t take too long because it was only 160 acres. But he saw the grass—dead in winter, of course—and the cattle. “Good water, too,” he said.
“Yeah. Best small ranch in the area, if I do say so myself.”
“Do you mind if I ask how much you paid for the land?”
“$10,000 about five years ago.”
“With nothing on it?”
“As virgin as a baby.”
He nodded. “You’ve made some good improvements. Well, you had, and I’m glad to hear they are being replaced.” Then he looked at me. “How much you want for it?”
I thought on it a moment. “Frankly, Mr. Stouffer, I’m not quite sure I want to sell, but I’m taking offers. What would you give for it?—if you wanted it.”
“I’m not sure I want it yet, but it’s the best piece I’ve seen so far, and I’ve looked around some. I want to check around Whitewater as well.”
“Nice area up there.”
“Yes. Pretty. I’m almost tempted to make you an offer right now, for fear you might sell it out from under me. But I’ll tell you this much. I’d give you at least 50,000 for it, if you’d take that. I can’t promise you I’m going to buy it, but if you don’t get another offer that high and want to hang on to it…”
“Oh, I’ll keep you in mind. To be honest with you, Mr. Stouffer, $50,000 is about twice what this place is worth. I guess $30,000 would be a fair figure, given the house, barn, and stock. Like I told you, I’m not real sure yet I want to sell, but if I do, I’d probably ask 30 for it.” I shrugged. “Nobody else has come to see the ranch, but then, I’ve only been back less than a month. I’m in no hurry. I would like to see how the house and barn turn out.”
“Well, you say it’s only worth 30, but what it’s really worth is what somebody is willing to pay for it. If you do put it on the market, I have no doubt somebody would snatch it up at that price in a hurry. Can I ask you to do one thing for me?”
“What’s that?”
“If you opt to sell, and somebody offers you $30,000 for it, before you accept it, would you contact me and give me a chance to make a counter-offer? I may find something I like better, but to be honest with you, I doubt it. This is the size I want, not too big so it’s manageable by myself, it’s got good grass, it’s already stocked, got a house and barn, it’s in an area I want to live in…how can you beat that? I’d give you 50,000 for it easy and think I was getting a bargain.”
I chuckled. “Well, then my price just doubled.”
He grinned. “Couldn’t blame you.”
“No,” I said, “not going to do that, but I will contact you before I sell it. You going to be up in Whitewater?”
“Yeah. That will be the place to reach me.”
“Great.” We shook hands and parted.
When he had said he was staying up in Whitewater, I had thought of Robin, of course. But I didn’t ask him about her, and he had no reason to mention her.
He was right and I was wrong. About the value of the land, that is. I was staggered, around the first of February, to get an offer of $50,000 for it. I had made a promise to Adam Stouffer though, so I contacted him. About the middle of month, I received a wire from him offering me $60,000 for my land. The other buyer didn’t want to top that. I was still just a tad hesitant about selling the land. I didn’t sleep that night at all, but the next morning I wired him back accepting his offer. I’ll never forget Julie, of course I won’t. But I can’t just stay here because her ashes are buried in the earth. Got to put at least part of her behind me and move on. The pain of seeing her grave every day would be too great. Maybe out of sight, out of mind…
Maybe.
But what to do with myself? Go buy a piece of Gail Sanders’ land? No, don’t want to go back there...Go to Whitewater and see if Robin is still there? I sighed. It’s been eight months…would she even remember me? She said she’d never forget me, but I can’t believe I made as big an impression on her as she made on me.
Go someplace and start over, Conners….
Adam Stouffer had wired me about wanting to purchase my land on the 16th and I had wired him back the next day with an acceptance. He rode down immediately and arrived on the 21st. It took a couple of days to get all the paperwork done, transferring the title of my land to Adam, getting the money from his bank in Philadelphia, tying up all the loose ends. We rode out again one day to see the property. It was cold and overcast and there were a few snow flurries, but it had been a fairly mild winter, for the most part. The house and barn were being built, but it would still be several weeks before they were finished.
“Where are you going to stay until they get everything built?” I asked Adam.
“I think I can get a boarding room in town for a few weeks. Or I may head up to Whitewater or Agua Calienta. I’ve got some friends in both places. And Adam thought, I wouldn’t mind seeing Robin again…she’s quite a gal. Can’t marry her, though, I’ve got my land here and she’s got her business up there. Tough break. “What are you planning on doing?”
“I really don’t know. This area has been my home my entire life. I may drift awhile, see the country, find a place I like, buy me another small place like this. That’s probably what I’ll end up doing.” I might go back to River Bend after all... I frowned...I had been mixed up for months and I still was.....Make up your mind and do something, Conners...
Adam was speaking. “You could hang around here. I hear you’re pretty good with a gun. The people here would probably elect you sheriff.”
“Yuck,” is all I said, and he laughed.
“I could use a foreman who knows the land,” he said, and I laughed.
“You know anything about ranching?” I asked him.
“Not a rootin’ tootin’ thing,” he replied, and I couldn’t help but laugh again.
“How do you figure on operating this place then?”
“Well, to be quite honest with you, I was figuring on hiring a helper until I learned the ropes myself. I was being a little facetious when I said I didn’t know anything. I grew up in Agua Caliente, and that’s a ranching area, too, but my folks weren’t ranchers. Still, some of it rubs off on you. You sure you don’t want a job for awhile?”
“I’m sure. Thanks.”
We sat on a hill overlooking the building of the house and barn. “Lovely piece of land, Rob.”
I thought back over the years. To when Julie and I first bought the land. Sitting right here on a horse next to her, watching our house and barn being built, loving each other, planning together, the whole world in my hands, nothing else a man could ever want. As tears came to my eyes, I knew right then I’d made the right choice in selling out to Adam Stouffer. There’s no way I could ever live on that piece of property again. Wonderful, wonderful memories shattered by a heart-wrenching agony. I had to go somewhere else.
“You’ll enjoy it, Adam. I hope it ends happier for you than it did for me.”
On March 1, the bank counted me out 60,000 of Adam Stouffer’s dollars. Adam kept asking me to stay around just a couple of weeks and give him a few tips on ranching, so I acquiesced. He knew enough about horses to get by and build upon, but he knew next to nothing about cows. Since I didn’t especially have anything to do, I agreed and showed him the basics of cowpunching.
“If one of ‘em gets sick, call the vet. If one of ‘em is about to calve, call the vet. Provided she doesn’t go ahead and drop the little feller on her own. Which she will, but get the vet out anyway. Your land will be fenced once all the building is finished, so you won’t have to worry about them straying onto somebody else’s property. But do keep an eye on your fence and make repairs when necessary. If you see somebody rustling your cattle, shoot ‘em. All the other ranchers around here will give you a medal.” He laughed.
“Should I plant some hay?”
“I did. About 10 acres. That probably won’t give you all you need in winter, but it might. And if it doesn’t, the feed store will have what you need…”
I helped Adam for a few days, but on March 10, a man named Doug Watson approached him about a foreman’s job. I knew Watson. “Hire him, Adam, he’s a good man, you won’t find a better one.”
“Thanks, Rob. I’ll do that.”
So he did. And I was out of a job. I didn’t want to stay in the area anyway. So I took all my money out of the Rogersville bank. All $60,000. Stuffed it in my saddlebags and what I couldn’t put in there, I wrapped in a money belt around my waist. And I dared anybody to try to take it away from me.
I left town. I had no idea where I was going. But then, the last time I left Rogersville, I didn’t know where I was going, either.
I consoled myself with the thought that I had been hit very hard the last year and thus was an emotional wreck. I didn’t know if that would wash psychologically or not. Or if I was just being weak. All I knew was I didn’t want to go back to Rogersville because of the memories. And I was scared to go to Whitewater for fear that there might be even more pain. I’d had enough of that. I’d thought I could never, never hurt as bad as I did when Julie died. I think I missed Kelly more than I admitted to myself, but I also thought that was probably because my heart had never completely healed from Julie and had taken another blow with Robin. I really felt that, if I went to Whitewater and found Robin married or not wanting me, I’d probably blow my brains out. And suicidal I was not.
But how long can a man live in wretched agony?
Am I making excuses? I didn’t know. I just knew how I felt and I would have given anything to change it.
I even considered going to Denver to see if I could find Julie Ratliff. But what would I do in Denver? And what if SHE had found somebody else? I even laughed at myself on that one. Conners, you’re so skittish you’re scared of your own shadow. I needed to find something to do and find it in a hurry.
You see, I could have gone back to Rogersville now. And even gotten my ranch back. The letter that Sergeant McCoy had brought me was a full pardon from the territorial governor. Colonel Benjamin Ratliff had asked the governor to give me one based on the help I had given in the Indian attack, and when the governor had looked more closely into the situation, he found out that, given all the circumstances, I had pretty well been railroaded into becoming an outlaw. He pardoned me and demanded that Martin Brant, Wilson’s son, give me back my 160 acres, and also return to their rightful owners any other land the Brants had taken from farmers and ranchers in that valley, and pay for damages caused. I could go home, get my ranch back, and insist that Martin Brant rebuild my house and barn and replenish my stock. I could pick up right where I had left off.
Except with a grave of my wife on my land. Could I live with that? I didn’t know. But I thought that I ought to be man enough to at least go down there and find out. If I couldn’t handle it, I’d sell my land and move on somewhere else.
So to Rogersville I headed. And I bypassed Whitewater on the way.
But not easily. About noon, I stopped at that same hill where Robin and I had departed that first day—second, if you count the night before—and wistfully looked down at the town. It was cold, snowing lightly. I could go down there…It was Christmas Day. That would be a wonderful present for me. I closed my eyes and turned Ol’ Paint away.
“I can’t do it yet, boy, I just can’t do it yet,” I told him.
I was in Rogersville by the end of the year. And by the 10th of January, Martin Brant, operating under a court order, had agreed to give me back my 160 acres, build me a ranch house with a barn, fill it full of hay, and give me 50 horses and 100 cows, plus a few chicken and a couple of pigs.
I went out to Julie’s grave. I stood there, looking down at it, trying hard not to cry. I didn’t. But it was hard, very hard, so very hard that I had to turn away in less than five minutes.
I tried to think of something else, and when I wanted to try to get Julie out of my mind, I turned my thoughts to…Robin. As I rode away from Julie’s grave, I remembered that stage robbery…taking her with me…her sarcastic, but lovely, sense of humor…her beautiful smile…She was just…different. Different…different…I loved my Julie more than I could ever say…I adored Julie Ratliff, though I don’t know if I really loved her…Kelly…yes, I had come to adore Kelly in the few months I had known her….But…
And I shook my head and even laughed a bit. The one who helps me forget Julie the most is the one I spent maybe 24 hours with.
Conners, you HAVE lost your mind…
I went over that last part kinda fast, so let me back up a bit. I made it into Rogersville on Friday, December 28 and found Ol’ Paint a stall at the town stable. He needed the rest after hauling me the several hundred miles from River Bend.
“Well, bless my ol’ wicked soul, if it ain’t Rob Conners,” Tug Dyson, the old goat at the stable said to me. “You got lots a’ guts comin’ back here. I don’ reckon the sheriff’s forgotten ye none, so he’s liable to toss yore carcass into the hoosegow.”
I smiled at him. “Tug, you mean you people haven’t elected another sheriff yet? Dixon is about as worthless as a whore at a eunuch convention.”
He chuckled. “I knowed that jest like you do, but the Brants’s’still got the money. You shore put a crimp in their style, though, I tell ye. Martin ain’t half the snake his ol’ man was.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “What brings you back, son? Sere’sly, Dixon will ‘rrest you as soon as he sees you.”
“No, he won’t.” I pulled the governor’s letter out of my pocket and handed it to Tug. “Can you read?”
“You bet I can, boy. Better’n you, I bet.” He read the letter, then let out a cackle and slapped his knee. “Well, congratulations, boy. This’ll sure rustle up some ‘citement round here, that’s fer sure. I’d love to see Dixon’s eyes, or better yet, Martin Brant’s when he reads this. His eyeballs’ll pop outta his noggin, fer shore. Watch ‘im, though, he’s still got a sidewinder ‘r two on his payroll. You gonna git your land back?”
I took the letter back from him. “I might. Or at least sell it. Not sure I can hang around here, Tug. Memories of Julie are still awful strong.”
“Yeah, kin unnerstan’ that. Still miss my Annie ‘n it’s been past fifteen years now. Well, good luck to ye. I’ll take care of Ol’ Paint fer ye, don’t fret yoreself none about him.”
“Thanks, Tug.”
I headed towards the hotel to get a room, and then I intended to go straight to the courthouse and show the sheriff this pardon letter I had received. Then I’d show it to Judge Connelly, who was a fair man, and I was hoping he’d slap an order on Brant to give me my land back. The letter said he was supposed to, and I was sure Connelly would support me. Or at least I hoped he would.
I got a few looks as I walked to the hotel. People knew me. But nobody stopped me or said anything. The clerk at the hotel was new in town, but when I signed the roster “Robert Conners,” he frowned.
“You the Conners wanted by the law around here?”
“That’s me,” I said.
“Hear you did the town a favor then got railroaded for it.”
“Something like that.”
“Sheriff won’t like seeing you here.”
“I’ve got a surprise for that…for that nice man who does such a wonderful job upholding the law in this town.”
The clerk grunted a laugh. “Good luck. Room 6, up the stairs to your right.”
I put my gear in the room and headed straight for the courthouse. This time I did get a couple of people stop me.
“Rob! What are you doing back in town? Don’t you know you’re still wanted around here?”
“Yeah, but I got a pardon from the governor, so everything is ok.”
“Hmph. You never should have needed one in the first place. You gonna confront Martin Brant?”
I smiled. “I won’t have to. I’m going to let the law do it for me.”
“Dixon ain’t gonna help you.”
“He won’t have any choice, unless he wants to be in contempt of court.”
I walked into the sheriff’s office. Sheriff Wayne Dixon was sitting at his desk, doing some paperwork. When he saw me, a surprised look came over his face. “Rob Conners!” He jumped up and went for his gun. “You’re under arrest,” he said.
“Take a leap, Dixon,” I said to him, and handed him the pardon letter.
He read it and his face clouded up. “Your bankrollers aren’t going to like it, are they?” I said, with a harsh laugh. “You’re going to have to enforce the law for a change.”
He growled and shoved the letter back at me. “I’ll do what I have to.”
“I’m sure you will. Just stay off my back.” I left his office and went to see Judge Connelly. He was shocked to see me as well but didn’t appear to be angry or upset about it.
“Hello, Rob,” he said. He was an older, distinguished looking gentlemen, with white hair, rough complexion, but clean shaven. “Kinda surprised to see you here, but I reckon you probably have a good reason.” I’d always liked Connelly, he seemed to be a good man, but he would do his job and uphold the law.
“I think so, Judge.” I handed him the letter.
“What you got here?” he asked, then started reading it with a thoughtful expression on his face. As he got farther on, he began to smile. When he finished, he set it down with a huge grin on his face. “Hot doggie, Conners, I’ve been wanting to bring those Brants down about ten pegs for years, but never could do it. This is perfect.”
“Will you give me a court order demanding the Brants give me back my land?”
“You better believe I will, and everybody else’s land they stole. Not only will they give you your land back, but they’ll rebuild your house and barn and restock your ranch for you.”
“Can you make them do that?”
“Governor’s a personal friend of mine. I’ll wire him and make sure he knows what’s going on.”
“Brant will hire a lawyer to try to get an injunction.”
“I’ll slap an injunction on their injunction. I’ll make it so expensive for them to go to court that it would be cheaper for them to settle out of court and rebuild your place.”
I smiled. “Thanks, Judge. I always did think you were a good man.”
“And I was always glad you planted Wilson Brant, too. Off the record, that is,” he chuckled. “I hated you had to do it, but I’m glad you left the area. If the matter had gone to court, I’m afraid the verdict would have come back guilty and I would have had to hang you…”
Well, to cut to the quick, Connelly issued the court order that very day and had Dixon deliver it to Brant immediately. Since it was a holiday weekend, nothing could be done until the following Wednesday, January 2. Sure enough, Brant hired a lawyer to get an injunction against the court order, but of course, Judge Connelly rejected it.
“This man,” he said, referring to me, “legally bought and paid for 160 acres of land. By right of ownership and pardon, that land is still his. Martin Brant has been feeding his cattle on Conners’ grass for the past several months, in effect, stealing grass that isn’t his. And Brant has also been doing it on land owned by other settlers, without a proper permit. I hereby declare that, because Martin Brant has been illegally using the Conners’ grass, he immediately withdraw all stock from that land, and in payment for the grass taken, rebuild the Conners house, barn, and fence, and provide all the stock, with interest, that was lost to Mr. Conners in the tragedy that befell him 14 months ago. It is hereby so ordered by this court.” He banged his gavel.
Brant’s lawyer jumped up. “Judge Connelly, you can’t do that.”
“Just did it, Mr. Winters. One more word out of you and I’ll hold you in contempt of court. And if the court might give you some advice, start representing honest people instead of dishonest ones. This court is adjourned.” And he arose and left the room.
The courtroom had been packed, though there was no trial, just Judge Connelly’s pronouncement, which was a little longer than related above. After the session, everyone came up to me, congratulating me. Nobody went over to Martin Brant, who walked out of the courtroom. But he was waiting for me outside.
“This isn’t over, Conners,” he said.
“No, it’s not, Brant, not until you obey the court order. I’ll have an architect send you plans for the house and barn I want, and I’ll also provide you an inventory of the stock your father destroyed so that you can replace it. With some numbers added to account for the natural growth that would have taken place. And I’m going to put up ‘No Trespassing’ signs all along my fence and if I ever see one Brant thug on my property again, I’ll be the last person who ever sees him. You got that, buster?”
“That sounds like a threat, Conners.”
I walked over to him. I was taller than he so I looked down at him. “Brant, please, please show up on my property some day soon.”
It was quite clear he didn’t want to. He turned and walked away. I never saw him again.
But work on the new ranch house and barn began the following week and all the livestock I demanded had arrived by the end of the month.
I had let it be known that I might not want to stay in the area. Even with my thoughts of Robin, the feelings for Julie were still very powerful, especially when I was on the ranch. But I wasn’t sure yet. I’d entertain offers for my property and if I received one I liked, then I might just take it.
But could I leave Julie for good? But could I stay and see her grave every day? Good grief, what a dilemma…
I met a man towards the end of January who was interested in “perhaps purchasing a ranch in the area.”
I shook his hand. “Rob Conners.”
“Adam Stouffer.”
I took him out to the ranch. We talked on the way. He told me about himself and I related my story to him.
“Great Caesar’s ghost,” he said. “And they let Brant get away with all that?”
“The law can be bought, as I’m sure you know.”
“Yes,” he replied. “Yes, that’s true. Do you think Brant will give any more trouble?”
I thought on that. “I really don’t think so, Mr. Stouffer, but, of course, I can’t say for sure. They still have the largest ranch in the area and Martin Brant probably thinks he stole it all fair and square. But the judge came down pretty hard on him a few weeks ago. Frankly, I’ll be a little surprised if Brant ever tries anything again. Martin Brant doesn’t have the salt his old man had and I think he’s a little intimidated by Judge Connelly. And I also think there will be a new sheriff in town by the end of the year, one not bought with Brant money. The town isn’t going to stand for that any more.”
The ranch house and barn weren’t near complete yet; in fact, with the weather, it might be late spring before they were. But I showed Adam the plans and he was impressed. He gave me a wry grin. “Not sure I need a house quite that big, but maybe I’ll get married some day and have a wife and kids to put into one.”
“How old are you, Mr. Stouffer?”
“28.”
“Oh, you’ve got plenty of time.”
“I reckon.”
We rode around the place. It didn’t take too long because it was only 160 acres. But he saw the grass—dead in winter, of course—and the cattle. “Good water, too,” he said.
“Yeah. Best small ranch in the area, if I do say so myself.”
“Do you mind if I ask how much you paid for the land?”
“$10,000 about five years ago.”
“With nothing on it?”
“As virgin as a baby.”
He nodded. “You’ve made some good improvements. Well, you had, and I’m glad to hear they are being replaced.” Then he looked at me. “How much you want for it?”
I thought on it a moment. “Frankly, Mr. Stouffer, I’m not quite sure I want to sell, but I’m taking offers. What would you give for it?—if you wanted it.”
“I’m not sure I want it yet, but it’s the best piece I’ve seen so far, and I’ve looked around some. I want to check around Whitewater as well.”
“Nice area up there.”
“Yes. Pretty. I’m almost tempted to make you an offer right now, for fear you might sell it out from under me. But I’ll tell you this much. I’d give you at least 50,000 for it, if you’d take that. I can’t promise you I’m going to buy it, but if you don’t get another offer that high and want to hang on to it…”
“Oh, I’ll keep you in mind. To be honest with you, Mr. Stouffer, $50,000 is about twice what this place is worth. I guess $30,000 would be a fair figure, given the house, barn, and stock. Like I told you, I’m not real sure yet I want to sell, but if I do, I’d probably ask 30 for it.” I shrugged. “Nobody else has come to see the ranch, but then, I’ve only been back less than a month. I’m in no hurry. I would like to see how the house and barn turn out.”
“Well, you say it’s only worth 30, but what it’s really worth is what somebody is willing to pay for it. If you do put it on the market, I have no doubt somebody would snatch it up at that price in a hurry. Can I ask you to do one thing for me?”
“What’s that?”
“If you opt to sell, and somebody offers you $30,000 for it, before you accept it, would you contact me and give me a chance to make a counter-offer? I may find something I like better, but to be honest with you, I doubt it. This is the size I want, not too big so it’s manageable by myself, it’s got good grass, it’s already stocked, got a house and barn, it’s in an area I want to live in…how can you beat that? I’d give you 50,000 for it easy and think I was getting a bargain.”
I chuckled. “Well, then my price just doubled.”
He grinned. “Couldn’t blame you.”
“No,” I said, “not going to do that, but I will contact you before I sell it. You going to be up in Whitewater?”
“Yeah. That will be the place to reach me.”
“Great.” We shook hands and parted.
When he had said he was staying up in Whitewater, I had thought of Robin, of course. But I didn’t ask him about her, and he had no reason to mention her.
He was right and I was wrong. About the value of the land, that is. I was staggered, around the first of February, to get an offer of $50,000 for it. I had made a promise to Adam Stouffer though, so I contacted him. About the middle of month, I received a wire from him offering me $60,000 for my land. The other buyer didn’t want to top that. I was still just a tad hesitant about selling the land. I didn’t sleep that night at all, but the next morning I wired him back accepting his offer. I’ll never forget Julie, of course I won’t. But I can’t just stay here because her ashes are buried in the earth. Got to put at least part of her behind me and move on. The pain of seeing her grave every day would be too great. Maybe out of sight, out of mind…
Maybe.
But what to do with myself? Go buy a piece of Gail Sanders’ land? No, don’t want to go back there...Go to Whitewater and see if Robin is still there? I sighed. It’s been eight months…would she even remember me? She said she’d never forget me, but I can’t believe I made as big an impression on her as she made on me.
Go someplace and start over, Conners….
Adam Stouffer had wired me about wanting to purchase my land on the 16th and I had wired him back the next day with an acceptance. He rode down immediately and arrived on the 21st. It took a couple of days to get all the paperwork done, transferring the title of my land to Adam, getting the money from his bank in Philadelphia, tying up all the loose ends. We rode out again one day to see the property. It was cold and overcast and there were a few snow flurries, but it had been a fairly mild winter, for the most part. The house and barn were being built, but it would still be several weeks before they were finished.
“Where are you going to stay until they get everything built?” I asked Adam.
“I think I can get a boarding room in town for a few weeks. Or I may head up to Whitewater or Agua Calienta. I’ve got some friends in both places. And Adam thought, I wouldn’t mind seeing Robin again…she’s quite a gal. Can’t marry her, though, I’ve got my land here and she’s got her business up there. Tough break. “What are you planning on doing?”
“I really don’t know. This area has been my home my entire life. I may drift awhile, see the country, find a place I like, buy me another small place like this. That’s probably what I’ll end up doing.” I might go back to River Bend after all... I frowned...I had been mixed up for months and I still was.....Make up your mind and do something, Conners...
Adam was speaking. “You could hang around here. I hear you’re pretty good with a gun. The people here would probably elect you sheriff.”
“Yuck,” is all I said, and he laughed.
“I could use a foreman who knows the land,” he said, and I laughed.
“You know anything about ranching?” I asked him.
“Not a rootin’ tootin’ thing,” he replied, and I couldn’t help but laugh again.
“How do you figure on operating this place then?”
“Well, to be quite honest with you, I was figuring on hiring a helper until I learned the ropes myself. I was being a little facetious when I said I didn’t know anything. I grew up in Agua Caliente, and that’s a ranching area, too, but my folks weren’t ranchers. Still, some of it rubs off on you. You sure you don’t want a job for awhile?”
“I’m sure. Thanks.”
We sat on a hill overlooking the building of the house and barn. “Lovely piece of land, Rob.”
I thought back over the years. To when Julie and I first bought the land. Sitting right here on a horse next to her, watching our house and barn being built, loving each other, planning together, the whole world in my hands, nothing else a man could ever want. As tears came to my eyes, I knew right then I’d made the right choice in selling out to Adam Stouffer. There’s no way I could ever live on that piece of property again. Wonderful, wonderful memories shattered by a heart-wrenching agony. I had to go somewhere else.
“You’ll enjoy it, Adam. I hope it ends happier for you than it did for me.”
On March 1, the bank counted me out 60,000 of Adam Stouffer’s dollars. Adam kept asking me to stay around just a couple of weeks and give him a few tips on ranching, so I acquiesced. He knew enough about horses to get by and build upon, but he knew next to nothing about cows. Since I didn’t especially have anything to do, I agreed and showed him the basics of cowpunching.
“If one of ‘em gets sick, call the vet. If one of ‘em is about to calve, call the vet. Provided she doesn’t go ahead and drop the little feller on her own. Which she will, but get the vet out anyway. Your land will be fenced once all the building is finished, so you won’t have to worry about them straying onto somebody else’s property. But do keep an eye on your fence and make repairs when necessary. If you see somebody rustling your cattle, shoot ‘em. All the other ranchers around here will give you a medal.” He laughed.
“Should I plant some hay?”
“I did. About 10 acres. That probably won’t give you all you need in winter, but it might. And if it doesn’t, the feed store will have what you need…”
I helped Adam for a few days, but on March 10, a man named Doug Watson approached him about a foreman’s job. I knew Watson. “Hire him, Adam, he’s a good man, you won’t find a better one.”
“Thanks, Rob. I’ll do that.”
So he did. And I was out of a job. I didn’t want to stay in the area anyway. So I took all my money out of the Rogersville bank. All $60,000. Stuffed it in my saddlebags and what I couldn’t put in there, I wrapped in a money belt around my waist. And I dared anybody to try to take it away from me.
I left town. I had no idea where I was going. But then, the last time I left Rogersville, I didn’t know where I was going, either.
Chapter Ten—The Good Samaritan Strikes Again
I moseyed into Whitewater in the early afternoon of Thursday, March 16. It was about 90 miles from Rogersville to Whitewater via the stagecoach road, but I meandered a bit and probably did it in 150. The weather was overcast and blustery on the 16th and it looked like a rain squall might be brewing. That’s one reason I figured I’d better hit town—to get a roof over my head. Plus, I had to know…I had to. What’s Robin doing?
Adam had told me that the Whitewater Bank was near collapse. “Not sure I’d put my money in there—not that you intended to, but then again, that’s what that bank needs. A huge deposit to give the people there some confidence that the bank is sound. What I heard last time I was up there is that they are operating on a shoe string, taking in just enough in deposits to keep their head above water. Another run and that bank is finished.”
I knew what would happen then. The bank would have to foreclose on any property for which it carried the notes. Most people, obviously, wouldn’t be able to pay and so they would be evicted from their homes, ranches, businesses, whatever, and some rich fellow would come up and offer the bank 10 cents on the dollar for all that property and, in desperation, the bank would take it. Mr. Rich Fellow would then proceed to start selling the land at market prices and become Mr. Even Richer Fellow. Oh, he’d buy the bank, too, so he’d own all the new notes as well, and foreclose on them whenever he wanted to—usually when a poor farmer or rancher fell about a month behind in his payments—so he could sell them again. Not a good situation for any town to give one man that much money and power but it had been known to happen more than once.
As I rode into Whitewater, I decided that the bank might be a good place to surreptitiously find out something about Robin. I reckoned I could stop someplace and ask, but folks tend to be a little suspicious of strangers coming in asking about the local female population, even if they said, “I’m an old friend.” Anybody could, and had, used that line. So, with $60,000 burning a hole in my pocket, I thought I’d go to the bank. Might even be able to do a good deed along the lines of what I had done for Fred and Kelly Atkins up in River Bend.
A few people glanced as me as I rode down the street, but nobody recognized me. I didn’t expect they would. It had been quite a few years since I had been in Whitewater; the last time was long before the mining/lumber operations started. And besides, I had only been passing through then, so I didn’t know anybody here. Or at least not very many people. A few ranchers was all.
Anyway, I saw the bank, stopped and hitched Ol’ Paint. I still had the money belt around my waist—under my shirt, of course—but I picked up my saddle bags, too; I didn’t particularly want to leave all that money on the street, though I didn’t really figure anybody would steal my bags in broad daylight, especially when they didn’t know what was in them. But no use being careless.
I walked into the bank and up to the teller. “My name is Conners. Is the bank president in? I’d like to visit with him, perhaps discuss opening an account and making a deposit.”
The teller smiled briefly and nodded. “Yes, Eric Wilcox is his name. I’ll tell him you’re here.”
I waited for about a minute and the teller came back out. “Mr. Wilcox will be happy to see you, Mr. Conners. Right through that door there.” The one that said “Eric Wilcox, President.” I never would have figured it out without the teller’s help….
I went into Wilcox’s office. We eyeballed each other for a few moments, then I smiled and held out my hand. “Conners.”
He took it and we shook. “Eric Wilcox. Have a seat, Mr. Conners. Can I get you something to drink?”
“I wouldn’t mind having some water if you have any.”
“Sure, hang on.” I sat down in a chair in front of his desk, while he poured me a glass of water. Nice office…Lovely view of the alley through that window…Other than that, it was a fairly typical office, with a few bookshelves, tables, chairs, and mainly Wilcox’s desk with a lot of clutter on it and a nice leather chair behind it for him to sit in. We peon depositors got a hard wooden chair to squirm on.
He sat down after he handed me the water and I thanked him. “What can I do for you, Mr. Conners? A deposit?”
“Well….maybe. I just sold some land down south and I’m thinking about settling around here, but I’m not sure yet. I do have a lot of money here and I’d like to have a place for safe keeping while I look around.”
When I said a lot of money, I could tell Wilcox’s interest was pricked, and right quick. “How much money are we talking about, Mr. Conners?”
“$60,000.” Wilcox started drooling. Figuratively, of course. That much money could save his bank. “But,” I continued, “before we discuss that, I have another matter that I’d like to talk with you about. A number of years ago, a man and his wife, rancher in the area named Morrow, helped me out in a situation when I really needed assistance. It doesn’t matter what it was. It wasn’t a major thing, at least it wasn’t to the Morrows and I seriously doubt they’d even remember it. But it was huge for me, I’ve never forgotten it, and I’d like to repay them in some way. But it has to be done in a way that they don’t know about it, or they would never, never accept it. Do you know who I’m talking about? The Morrows. Frankly, I can’t recall for sure their first names, Ben and Martha, I believe.”
“Oh, yes, of course, long time residents of Whitewater. Very good people, and I’m not surprised they helped you out. Unfortunately, Ben died about a year ago. His widow is living in town now with her niece.”
My blood started pumping a little at the “with her niece” comment, but I don’t think I showed any reaction. “Well, I’m really sorry to hear about Mr. Morrow. He was a good man, from what I could tell.”
“One of the best, believe me.”
“I’m sure.” Then I hesitated. “How is his widow doing? Is there any way I might be able to help her, or the niece? Something I can do for them? I really would like to repay them in some way.” I had no way of knowing, of course, about Robin’s business or Aunt Martha’s house. I was shooting in the dark, but I did know the bank was hurting, and that meant they might be, too.
Wilcox hesitated, and he was thoughtful. “Well, let me see…” He wanted my money, but it was NOT a good idea to tell a potential huge depositor that the bank was gasping for breath. “Perhaps you can. Miss Morrow, the niece, has recently started a business in town and owes some on it. And Mrs. Morrow, Martha, has run into a bit of a financial crisis as well. You could perhaps help them out a little.”
I studied him closely. “Ok, Mr. Wilcox, let’s put some cards on the table. I don’t walk into a town and dump $60,000 in a bank unless I know a little about that bank. And I know that, for the last couple of months, you’ve barely been keeping your head above water and that my money could save you. That’s fine, I don’t mind helping out, although it’s a risk. The rest of your depositors might decide they want their money as well and the run will start again and I’ll lose everything. But probably not. They just want to know you have it in case they need it.”
Eric didn’t say anything, he was just looking at me. His face was a bit hard, though.
“How much do the Morrows owe you?”
He leaned back and scrutinized me a little more before he answered. “You seem to know our circumstances fairly well, Mr. Connors. I’m not necessarily pleased about it, but I guess it’s not news that the bank here had a run on it recently. Technically, the Morrows owe about $14,500. I had to take $7,000 of their deposit money to pay off those who demanded their money during the run, so they owe about $7,500. But it’s 14,500 if I am to return what they had on deposit.”
I digested that for a few moments, then came to a decision. “Mr. Wilcox, I’ll give you $10,000 for the two Morrow notes. You give them back what you took from them that helped check your bank run, and then I’ll deposit the rest of my money in your bank. If that stabilizes you, and you start getting your depositors back, I’ll want my money back—the $50,000 left—if I decide not to stay in this area. Oh, and you never tell the Morrows who paid off their notes.”
He stared at me again, his handsome face very thoughtful. I had him over a barrel and he knew it. And I did, too. “Why are you doing this, Mr. Conners?”
“I told you. Ben and Martha Morrow did me a huge favor one time. Frankly, I wouldn’t have this $60,000 if not for them. So I feel that part of this money could actually be considered theirs.” That, of course, was high cholesterol pig slop, I had never met Ben and Martha Morrow, never even heard of them before I had met Robin. But, well, I wanted to do something for Robin, whether I could ever have her or not. And, given the bank problems in Whitewater, it didn’t really surprise me that she and her aunt had a tough financial situation to deal with. So, I asked Wilcox, “Do we have a deal?”
He paused, but only for effect. There was absolutely, positively no way he could pass this deal up. $60,000 was just what he needed to put a solid foundation under his bank, and it was most probable that many people who had withdrawn their money would re-deposit it when they knew the bank was on firm ground again. “Yes, Mr. Conners. I will accept your offer. $10,000 to clear the Morrow notes, their moneys returned to their accounts, and you deposit $60,000 in my bank. And the Morrows never know who cleared their notes.”
“Agreed.” We shook.
“I’ll get started on the paperwork immediately,” Wilcox said.
It didn’t take all that long. Back then, there weren’t 10,000 government forms to fill out every time you wanted to blow your nose, with another 10,000 saying you signed the form that said you wanted to blow your nose. I put the $60,000 on his desk, and Eric had one of his clerks come in, take it away, and count it while the banker filled out what little paperwork there needed to be done. He got out the Morrow notes, signed them, wrote “Paid in Full” on them, stamped and notarized them, and then put them in an envelope.
“I’ll make sure the Morrows get this no later than tomorrow.” He smiled. “Won’t they be surprised.”
He then completed the proper forms to return the Morrows’ funds to their accounts, and then opened me an account for $60,000—the clerk came in and said that was the exact amount. $10,000 would be subtracted to pay the Morrows’ debt, but they could handle that without me. I had to sign some papers, of course, but I wrote “R. C. Conners,” and said, “Put the deposit in that name, please.” The “C” stood for “Charles,” my middle name. If Wilcox had ever heard of Rob Conners, which he probably had, he gave no indication that he recognized “R. C. Conners” as “Rob Conners.” Of course, word had it that I was dead anyway, so there would have been no reason for him to make a connection. And since everything had happened several months prior, it was long out of everybody’s minds. But no sense in stirring up memories if I could help it.
When it was all done, Wilcox was beaming. “Thank you, Mr. Conners. You’ve helped out this community, and the Morrows, greatly, and I do hope you will stay in this area. There is a lot of good ranch land available, and your credit is certainly good at this bank.”
“Thank you. I’ll take a look around.” We shook again, and I started to leave, then stopped. “Oh. You said that Martha Morrow’s niece had started a business in town. What sort of business? And where is it? I might at least want to meet her.”
Eric pulled a face. “Well, it’s a shop, just down the street on the other side of the grocery store.” He pointed. “It’s called ‘For Ladies Only,” so unless you have a sweetheart, it might not be the most interesting place for you to go. But she’s there almost all the time if you’d like to meet her.” He smiled. “Quite a looker.”
“Her name?”
"Robin.”
That’s her. Though I had had no doubt. “Thanks. I may run over there and buy some new underwear.” He laughed. “What time does she close?”
“5.”
“Ok. I’m sure I’ll see you again soon, Mr. Wilcox.”
“I hope so. And thanks for your business.”
I left the bank. It was a little after three o’clock. I was hungry, and I wanted a shave, and a haircut, and a bath. I might as well look my best when I went to see Robin. Apparently, she wasn’t married, because Wilcox had called her “Miss Morrow,” but that didn’t mean she didn’t have a 6’6”, 300 pound jealous boyfriend who ate nails for lunch and was ready to squash any living organism that looked at her. Plus, I didn’t want to put her on the spot. I had little doubt she would remember me, but…would she want to see me again? Would it make her uncomfortable? I decided that, rather than go into her shop, I’d wait until she left and catch her then. It was Thursday, and she may have had plans that night, but I could at least say hi, see how she reacted to me, and if I got negative vibes, I could head out of town tomorrow. Wilcox would have my money, but I could always get it through another bank via a wire. I just…had to know about Robin.
So I went and got a hotel room, fed my belly, and got a shave, haircut, and had a nice warm bath. And my clothes laundered. It was right at 4:30 now. Wilcox had said Robin closed the shop at 5. She probably wouldn’t leave immediately, I figured; there would be some cleaning up and such to do. I rode towards her shop, but stopped two doors short and tethered Ol’ Paint across the street. I couldn’t see inside the shop, it was a little too dark, but I didn’t want her to see me—yet. I’d pick the time.
I scouted around a little bit. Robin’s shop was the second store in from a side street. She was between the grocer’s and a book store. I walked around to the side street—Oak Street—and saw the alley and the stables behind her store. I figured she probably had her horse in the stable—I didn’t go check, though I would have remembered the Palomino—and thus I suspected she’d come out the back door of her building. But I wasn’t sure. I went and got Ol’ Paint and rode to the side street where I could see both her front and back doors. If I watch only the front, she’ll come out the back. If I watch the back, she’ll come out the front. Well, I solved that by leaning back in the shadows of a building at a place where I could watch both front and back. She’ll probably come out the roof…
Just before 5 o’clock, I saw four men ride into the alley and tie their horses to a railing by the stable. They then walked around front and went inside Robin’s store. I made a face, not quite able to figure out what four big, burly men would want in a store “for ladies only,” but perhaps they were going to buy something for their wives, though they were cutting closing time awfully close. A couple of minutes after five, I saw two women come out of the shop. They stood on the edge of the sidewalk for a few minutes, and then a buggy pulled up, they both got in, and it drove off. I heard a gust of wind whistle through some rafters over my head, and I checked the sky. Low, billowing, gray clouds. Starting to get dark because of it. But still plenty of light to see by. I saw a couple of people leave and lock up stores across Main Street. I couldn’t help but wondering what Robin was doing inside her store with those four men.
I frowned. Could be harmless. But I didn’t like it. My spider sense was tingling.
Adam had told me that the Whitewater Bank was near collapse. “Not sure I’d put my money in there—not that you intended to, but then again, that’s what that bank needs. A huge deposit to give the people there some confidence that the bank is sound. What I heard last time I was up there is that they are operating on a shoe string, taking in just enough in deposits to keep their head above water. Another run and that bank is finished.”
I knew what would happen then. The bank would have to foreclose on any property for which it carried the notes. Most people, obviously, wouldn’t be able to pay and so they would be evicted from their homes, ranches, businesses, whatever, and some rich fellow would come up and offer the bank 10 cents on the dollar for all that property and, in desperation, the bank would take it. Mr. Rich Fellow would then proceed to start selling the land at market prices and become Mr. Even Richer Fellow. Oh, he’d buy the bank, too, so he’d own all the new notes as well, and foreclose on them whenever he wanted to—usually when a poor farmer or rancher fell about a month behind in his payments—so he could sell them again. Not a good situation for any town to give one man that much money and power but it had been known to happen more than once.
As I rode into Whitewater, I decided that the bank might be a good place to surreptitiously find out something about Robin. I reckoned I could stop someplace and ask, but folks tend to be a little suspicious of strangers coming in asking about the local female population, even if they said, “I’m an old friend.” Anybody could, and had, used that line. So, with $60,000 burning a hole in my pocket, I thought I’d go to the bank. Might even be able to do a good deed along the lines of what I had done for Fred and Kelly Atkins up in River Bend.
A few people glanced as me as I rode down the street, but nobody recognized me. I didn’t expect they would. It had been quite a few years since I had been in Whitewater; the last time was long before the mining/lumber operations started. And besides, I had only been passing through then, so I didn’t know anybody here. Or at least not very many people. A few ranchers was all.
Anyway, I saw the bank, stopped and hitched Ol’ Paint. I still had the money belt around my waist—under my shirt, of course—but I picked up my saddle bags, too; I didn’t particularly want to leave all that money on the street, though I didn’t really figure anybody would steal my bags in broad daylight, especially when they didn’t know what was in them. But no use being careless.
I walked into the bank and up to the teller. “My name is Conners. Is the bank president in? I’d like to visit with him, perhaps discuss opening an account and making a deposit.”
The teller smiled briefly and nodded. “Yes, Eric Wilcox is his name. I’ll tell him you’re here.”
I waited for about a minute and the teller came back out. “Mr. Wilcox will be happy to see you, Mr. Conners. Right through that door there.” The one that said “Eric Wilcox, President.” I never would have figured it out without the teller’s help….
I went into Wilcox’s office. We eyeballed each other for a few moments, then I smiled and held out my hand. “Conners.”
He took it and we shook. “Eric Wilcox. Have a seat, Mr. Conners. Can I get you something to drink?”
“I wouldn’t mind having some water if you have any.”
“Sure, hang on.” I sat down in a chair in front of his desk, while he poured me a glass of water. Nice office…Lovely view of the alley through that window…Other than that, it was a fairly typical office, with a few bookshelves, tables, chairs, and mainly Wilcox’s desk with a lot of clutter on it and a nice leather chair behind it for him to sit in. We peon depositors got a hard wooden chair to squirm on.
He sat down after he handed me the water and I thanked him. “What can I do for you, Mr. Conners? A deposit?”
“Well….maybe. I just sold some land down south and I’m thinking about settling around here, but I’m not sure yet. I do have a lot of money here and I’d like to have a place for safe keeping while I look around.”
When I said a lot of money, I could tell Wilcox’s interest was pricked, and right quick. “How much money are we talking about, Mr. Conners?”
“$60,000.” Wilcox started drooling. Figuratively, of course. That much money could save his bank. “But,” I continued, “before we discuss that, I have another matter that I’d like to talk with you about. A number of years ago, a man and his wife, rancher in the area named Morrow, helped me out in a situation when I really needed assistance. It doesn’t matter what it was. It wasn’t a major thing, at least it wasn’t to the Morrows and I seriously doubt they’d even remember it. But it was huge for me, I’ve never forgotten it, and I’d like to repay them in some way. But it has to be done in a way that they don’t know about it, or they would never, never accept it. Do you know who I’m talking about? The Morrows. Frankly, I can’t recall for sure their first names, Ben and Martha, I believe.”
“Oh, yes, of course, long time residents of Whitewater. Very good people, and I’m not surprised they helped you out. Unfortunately, Ben died about a year ago. His widow is living in town now with her niece.”
My blood started pumping a little at the “with her niece” comment, but I don’t think I showed any reaction. “Well, I’m really sorry to hear about Mr. Morrow. He was a good man, from what I could tell.”
“One of the best, believe me.”
“I’m sure.” Then I hesitated. “How is his widow doing? Is there any way I might be able to help her, or the niece? Something I can do for them? I really would like to repay them in some way.” I had no way of knowing, of course, about Robin’s business or Aunt Martha’s house. I was shooting in the dark, but I did know the bank was hurting, and that meant they might be, too.
Wilcox hesitated, and he was thoughtful. “Well, let me see…” He wanted my money, but it was NOT a good idea to tell a potential huge depositor that the bank was gasping for breath. “Perhaps you can. Miss Morrow, the niece, has recently started a business in town and owes some on it. And Mrs. Morrow, Martha, has run into a bit of a financial crisis as well. You could perhaps help them out a little.”
I studied him closely. “Ok, Mr. Wilcox, let’s put some cards on the table. I don’t walk into a town and dump $60,000 in a bank unless I know a little about that bank. And I know that, for the last couple of months, you’ve barely been keeping your head above water and that my money could save you. That’s fine, I don’t mind helping out, although it’s a risk. The rest of your depositors might decide they want their money as well and the run will start again and I’ll lose everything. But probably not. They just want to know you have it in case they need it.”
Eric didn’t say anything, he was just looking at me. His face was a bit hard, though.
“How much do the Morrows owe you?”
He leaned back and scrutinized me a little more before he answered. “You seem to know our circumstances fairly well, Mr. Connors. I’m not necessarily pleased about it, but I guess it’s not news that the bank here had a run on it recently. Technically, the Morrows owe about $14,500. I had to take $7,000 of their deposit money to pay off those who demanded their money during the run, so they owe about $7,500. But it’s 14,500 if I am to return what they had on deposit.”
I digested that for a few moments, then came to a decision. “Mr. Wilcox, I’ll give you $10,000 for the two Morrow notes. You give them back what you took from them that helped check your bank run, and then I’ll deposit the rest of my money in your bank. If that stabilizes you, and you start getting your depositors back, I’ll want my money back—the $50,000 left—if I decide not to stay in this area. Oh, and you never tell the Morrows who paid off their notes.”
He stared at me again, his handsome face very thoughtful. I had him over a barrel and he knew it. And I did, too. “Why are you doing this, Mr. Conners?”
“I told you. Ben and Martha Morrow did me a huge favor one time. Frankly, I wouldn’t have this $60,000 if not for them. So I feel that part of this money could actually be considered theirs.” That, of course, was high cholesterol pig slop, I had never met Ben and Martha Morrow, never even heard of them before I had met Robin. But, well, I wanted to do something for Robin, whether I could ever have her or not. And, given the bank problems in Whitewater, it didn’t really surprise me that she and her aunt had a tough financial situation to deal with. So, I asked Wilcox, “Do we have a deal?”
He paused, but only for effect. There was absolutely, positively no way he could pass this deal up. $60,000 was just what he needed to put a solid foundation under his bank, and it was most probable that many people who had withdrawn their money would re-deposit it when they knew the bank was on firm ground again. “Yes, Mr. Conners. I will accept your offer. $10,000 to clear the Morrow notes, their moneys returned to their accounts, and you deposit $60,000 in my bank. And the Morrows never know who cleared their notes.”
“Agreed.” We shook.
“I’ll get started on the paperwork immediately,” Wilcox said.
It didn’t take all that long. Back then, there weren’t 10,000 government forms to fill out every time you wanted to blow your nose, with another 10,000 saying you signed the form that said you wanted to blow your nose. I put the $60,000 on his desk, and Eric had one of his clerks come in, take it away, and count it while the banker filled out what little paperwork there needed to be done. He got out the Morrow notes, signed them, wrote “Paid in Full” on them, stamped and notarized them, and then put them in an envelope.
“I’ll make sure the Morrows get this no later than tomorrow.” He smiled. “Won’t they be surprised.”
He then completed the proper forms to return the Morrows’ funds to their accounts, and then opened me an account for $60,000—the clerk came in and said that was the exact amount. $10,000 would be subtracted to pay the Morrows’ debt, but they could handle that without me. I had to sign some papers, of course, but I wrote “R. C. Conners,” and said, “Put the deposit in that name, please.” The “C” stood for “Charles,” my middle name. If Wilcox had ever heard of Rob Conners, which he probably had, he gave no indication that he recognized “R. C. Conners” as “Rob Conners.” Of course, word had it that I was dead anyway, so there would have been no reason for him to make a connection. And since everything had happened several months prior, it was long out of everybody’s minds. But no sense in stirring up memories if I could help it.
When it was all done, Wilcox was beaming. “Thank you, Mr. Conners. You’ve helped out this community, and the Morrows, greatly, and I do hope you will stay in this area. There is a lot of good ranch land available, and your credit is certainly good at this bank.”
“Thank you. I’ll take a look around.” We shook again, and I started to leave, then stopped. “Oh. You said that Martha Morrow’s niece had started a business in town. What sort of business? And where is it? I might at least want to meet her.”
Eric pulled a face. “Well, it’s a shop, just down the street on the other side of the grocery store.” He pointed. “It’s called ‘For Ladies Only,” so unless you have a sweetheart, it might not be the most interesting place for you to go. But she’s there almost all the time if you’d like to meet her.” He smiled. “Quite a looker.”
“Her name?”
"Robin.”
That’s her. Though I had had no doubt. “Thanks. I may run over there and buy some new underwear.” He laughed. “What time does she close?”
“5.”
“Ok. I’m sure I’ll see you again soon, Mr. Wilcox.”
“I hope so. And thanks for your business.”
I left the bank. It was a little after three o’clock. I was hungry, and I wanted a shave, and a haircut, and a bath. I might as well look my best when I went to see Robin. Apparently, she wasn’t married, because Wilcox had called her “Miss Morrow,” but that didn’t mean she didn’t have a 6’6”, 300 pound jealous boyfriend who ate nails for lunch and was ready to squash any living organism that looked at her. Plus, I didn’t want to put her on the spot. I had little doubt she would remember me, but…would she want to see me again? Would it make her uncomfortable? I decided that, rather than go into her shop, I’d wait until she left and catch her then. It was Thursday, and she may have had plans that night, but I could at least say hi, see how she reacted to me, and if I got negative vibes, I could head out of town tomorrow. Wilcox would have my money, but I could always get it through another bank via a wire. I just…had to know about Robin.
So I went and got a hotel room, fed my belly, and got a shave, haircut, and had a nice warm bath. And my clothes laundered. It was right at 4:30 now. Wilcox had said Robin closed the shop at 5. She probably wouldn’t leave immediately, I figured; there would be some cleaning up and such to do. I rode towards her shop, but stopped two doors short and tethered Ol’ Paint across the street. I couldn’t see inside the shop, it was a little too dark, but I didn’t want her to see me—yet. I’d pick the time.
I scouted around a little bit. Robin’s shop was the second store in from a side street. She was between the grocer’s and a book store. I walked around to the side street—Oak Street—and saw the alley and the stables behind her store. I figured she probably had her horse in the stable—I didn’t go check, though I would have remembered the Palomino—and thus I suspected she’d come out the back door of her building. But I wasn’t sure. I went and got Ol’ Paint and rode to the side street where I could see both her front and back doors. If I watch only the front, she’ll come out the back. If I watch the back, she’ll come out the front. Well, I solved that by leaning back in the shadows of a building at a place where I could watch both front and back. She’ll probably come out the roof…
Just before 5 o’clock, I saw four men ride into the alley and tie their horses to a railing by the stable. They then walked around front and went inside Robin’s store. I made a face, not quite able to figure out what four big, burly men would want in a store “for ladies only,” but perhaps they were going to buy something for their wives, though they were cutting closing time awfully close. A couple of minutes after five, I saw two women come out of the shop. They stood on the edge of the sidewalk for a few minutes, and then a buggy pulled up, they both got in, and it drove off. I heard a gust of wind whistle through some rafters over my head, and I checked the sky. Low, billowing, gray clouds. Starting to get dark because of it. But still plenty of light to see by. I saw a couple of people leave and lock up stores across Main Street. I couldn’t help but wondering what Robin was doing inside her store with those four men.
I frowned. Could be harmless. But I didn’t like it. My spider sense was tingling.
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