A Season in Hell Read online

  It was Rusty who spoke, having moved silently closer. “You ask too many questions, mister.”

  “Rusty!” Tennie said. “Don’t pay him no never mind,” she told Hawkshaw. “They’re just afraid I’m going to get hitched to somebody they don’t like.”

  Hawkshaw gave Rusty a stare while he buttoned his shirt but said nothing to the boy. “What do I owe you, ma’am?” he asked Tennie.

  “Nothing. If I was a real doctor, I’d make you pay for my expertise. But I’m not. If you come back in a week, I’ll take the stitches out for you.”

  Hawkshaw put on his hat. “I won’t be here in a week,” he said and left.

  * * *

  Three days later, the U.S. deputy marshal stopped by in time for the noon meal, as was his custom. A slender young man with a mane of thick brown hair, he had straight bushy eyebrows set over lively green eyes, and a wide mouth hidden by an enormous mustache. Tennie was aware of the rumors that he had numerous sweethearts, and an ambitious one on the other side of Brushwood planned on roping him any day. He sat at the table, eating steadily, and only began to talk when Tennie served a green grape pie.

  “I hear tell a man named Hawkshaw has been hanging around Ring Bit,” the handsome marshal said.

  “That’s right,” Tennie said. “But he said he doesn’t plan on being here much longer.”

  The marshal made a noncommittal noise and began asking questions and gossiping about the other inhabitants of Ring Bit. When he left, Tennie followed him to the door and stood outside under the porch awning.

  He stopped to look across the street at the butcher shop. “You know the Miltons blame you and Wash Jones for killing their brother.”

  “They can blame us all they want to, but their brother was running stolen cattle through that business. Besides resisting arrest, he came close to killing Wash and me. And they ought to be grateful. They inherited the business. I’m sure their brother never parted with a dime while he was living.”

  The marshal turned and called back into the jailhouse. “You boys stay clear of those Miltons. They’re sorry trash, and they won’t have no qualms about getting even with you any way they can. The only reason they don’t poison your meat is because they’d have Lafayette and the rest of the town down on them like hogs on a snake.”

  They hollered back, “Yes, sir!” as they fought over the last of piece of pie.

  The marshal looked at Tennie. “How’d they do the rolling thunder?”

  “Flapping a piece of tin they borrowed from the new blacksmith,” Tennie said. “I should have known they were up to no good when one of the merchants told me they’d been in his store buying saltpeter and matches with their own money.”

  The marshal laughed, saying good-bye. He put his hat on and sauntered toward the saloons. Tennie turned, about to go back inside to do the dishes when she caught sight of a familiar figure walking toward her from the livery next door.

  As far as she knew, the sheriff of the county had not set foot in Ring Bit since her arrival. A heavyset older man with eyelids that hung so low they kept half his eyeballs from being seen, he despised Ring Bit and made no attempt to hide it since most of the lowlifes inhabiting the town did not bother to vote. He halted in front of Tennie.

  “They didn’t hurt anybody with those smoke cans,” Tennie said.

  He gave her a puzzled look. “I don’t know what you are talking about, woman.”

  “Oh. Why are you here?”

  He turned red in the face. “I’m the sheriff of this here county, and I have a right to be here.”

  Tennie wanted to make a smart remark but stopped herself. “It’s just that I’ve never seen you in Ring Bit before. That’s all.”

  “You’ve got a man in this town with a lightning-fast draw, and I don’t want him in my county,” the sheriff said. “It’s up to you to get rid of him.”

  “Up to me?” Tennie said. “Why me? But if you are talking about Mr. Hawkshaw, he said he’ll be gone before the week is out anyway.”

  “Make sure of it,” the sheriff said. “Which of the saloons does he park his hat in?”

  Tennie wanted to say, “You tell him to get out of town,” but instead, she answered his question. “Sometimes the Silver Moon, but most of the time he’s in the one across the street.”

  The sheriff strode away while Tennie watched as he purposely avoided both the Silver Moon and the saloon across the street, going into a smaller one closer to the nicer part of town.

  She shook her head, wondering why she questioned anything the sheriff did or said. If there was ever a problem in Ring Bit, she knew she couldn’t count on him, or the U.S. deputy marshal, for that matter. Although she liked the marshal, he had a habit of always being someplace else when trouble came. The sheriff, who Tennie thoroughly disliked, thought Ring Bit deserved any tribulations it got and more.

  When the sheriff returned, she was behind the jailhouse hoeing weeds, hoping to clear a patch to grow black-eyed peas. It seemed a silly thing to do, when she had every intention of getting married and leaving the jailhouse far behind.

  “I heard about that stunt your stepsons pulled,” the sheriff said when he reached her. “I’m warning you right now they better not try something like that in Cat Ridge. That oldest boy of yours ain’t so young he can’t be locked up.”

  Tennie stood up straighter, wishing she had guts enough to smack him with the hoe. “It was just a childish prank. And it was kind of funny when folks thought the Antichrist was coming to get them. We almost heard some juicy confessions.”

  “There weren’t nothing funny about it,” he snapped. “Don’t forget what I said about that shootist.”

  Tennie stared at him, not openly defiant, but not compliant either. She had no intention of telling Hawkshaw anything.

  The sheriff gave her a hard look from under those heavy lids. “And he’s not the only one. I hear tell Ring Bit has taken yet another desperado to its bosom. I’m warning you if that trash spills into Cat Ridge, I’m complaining to the governor, friend of that fancy-pants Lafayette or not.” The sheriff gave her another glare, turned on his heels, and stomped toward the livery.

  Tennie hoped he’d get on his horse and leave town for good. “Why didn’t I say, ‘You go right ahead and complain. I’m sure they’d love to hear about all the help you gave the last time we had trouble.’” She muttered, “He probably would have slapped me. I’ll be so glad when I can leave this job and never look back.” She took her hoe and attacked the weeds.

  She would marry Wash Jones and take her place in society as the wife of an up-and-coming attorney with ambitions of being a judge. She would leave behind the unpleasant odor of being a destitute orphan, of working in an unsuitable profession, of being a bride of one day to an old man she’d never met who died before he could do more than give her hair a brush with his lips. Wash would steady her stepsons and see to it they got a decent education.

  “People in church will say, ‘Will you sit here by me, Mrs. Jones?’” Tennie said out loud. “Instead of, ‘We don’t want you on our side of town.’”

  A noise startled her, and she whirled around.

  “Miss Tennie,” Lafayette said. “Whatever are you doing standing there talking to a farm implement?” He laughed and gave her a gentle smile.

  She smiled back, struck again by what a handsome man Lafayette Dumont was. Wash’s older half brother had a fine head of dark hair, with wide gray streaks on the side. His face was thinner than Wash’s, but they had the same lively blue eyes, except Wash’s were slightly narrower from squinting in the sun so much. Their voices were different, too. Wash had the deep, distinctive voice of a born orator, while Lafayette’s accent was much more Southern, and belied a little of the French blood he’d inherited from his mother.

  Lafayette held out his arm. “Leave the farmwork behind, dear Tennie, and come inside with me for a while.”

  Tennie put the hoe down. She hesitated at placing her hand on the sleeve of his exquisite cha
rcoal gray suit. “I’m afraid my hands are a little dirty.”

  He took her hand and placed it on his arm, smiling kindly at her. She smiled back and walked with him to the front of the jailhouse. He opened the door, allowing her to enter first. He followed her, leaving the door ajar to allow air into the hot office.

  “Sit down,” Tennie said. “I’ll wash my hands. Would you like some coffee? I can make a pot.”

  “No, dear. A glass of water would do me fine.”

  She hurried to the back, washing her hands in a basin as quickly as she could, then poured two glasses of water and reentered the office. He was sitting at the head of the table, waiting for her.

  “Here you are,” she said, placing the glass in front of him. She took a chair beside him and sat down.

  “I hear your stepsons put on an entertaining show for the townspeople the other night.”

  “At the time, I was upset,” Tennie said. “But looking back, it really was comical. The sheriff, though, threatened to throw Rusty in jail if he did anything like that in Cat Ridge.”

  “Rusty is too sensible to get caught doing anything like that in Cat Ridge, and Lucas is too wily to be caught by anyone but you. Badger just follows the other two.” Lafayette paused a moment then continued. “And was the marshal angry about it when he stopped by?”

  “Oh no,” Tennie said with a laugh. “He just wanted to know how they did it. You know him. When he comes to Ring Bit, it’s always at dinnertime. I don’t think the man ever cooks for himself.”

  “Um,” Lafayette said, fingering the glass. “I think the marshal might be as promiscuous with his affections as he is with his appetite.”

  Tennie laughed again. “I have heard that. Repeatedly.”

  Lafayette smiled, throwing back his head.

  “I met your new helper,” she said. “Is he another one of the soldiers who fought under you in the war?”

  “Giddings Coltrane?” Lafayette asked. “Yes, he was a demolitions expert. He blew up many a bridge for me. He’s also a distant relative of my sister-in-law.”

  Tennie swallowed to keep from letting out a gasp. Was Gid kin to the wife of the brother Lafayette accidentally killed? Maybe it was another brother’s wife.

  Lafayette continued to talk in a natural voice. “After the war, when things got bad, it looked like Gid might lose his home. He foolishly joined his brothers in a train robbery. He wrote me from prison, saying he wanted to forget the past but needed help getting a new start somewhere else when he was released. He’s young, stout as a mule, and has no brains whatsoever except when it comes to explosives.”

  Tennie took in a deep breath. “He must be the one the sheriff was referring to as a desperado. And he seemed so nice.”

  Lafayette gave a sardonic smile. “The only desperate thing about him is his desire that you not be angry with him.”

  “Why would I be angry with him?” Tennie asked. “I just met him.”

  “Because he’s the one who told Lucas and Rusty how to make the smudge pots and brew up the sulfuric odor. He often sits and whittles behind the saloon during the day. When Lucas delivers the bottles he gathers to the back door of the saloon, he and the other boys like to listen to Gid reminisce about the war. Gid didn’t realize they would try out some of his potions on the citizens of Ring Bit.”

  Tennie shut her eyes for a few seconds, trying to sort things out. She was only eighteen. She couldn’t handle three rowdy boys. She couldn’t handle a town full of men bent on raising hell either. She wasn’t even sure she could handle marriage. “Lord help me,” she said under her breath, opening her eyes. “It’s not his fault those boys look for devilment wherever they can. But as long as they are not destructive to property or being cruel to animals, I’m not going to say too much. And I’m certainly not going to blame a war veteran for entertaining a handful of boys. Especially one who’s gone through hell and wants a fresh start.”

  “That’s my sweet girl,” Lafayette said, squeezing her hand. “Despite Gid’s faults, he’d do to ride the river with, as the cowboys say. Very well, in fact.” He held on to her hand and rose from his chair.

  She stood up.

  “I received word from Wash today that he is wrapping up the rustler business and will be here shortly,” Lafayette said. “We’ll travel by stage to Cat Ridge, and from there, catch another stage heading south.”

  Tennie nodded, her heart filling with happiness, excitement, and fear.

  Lafayette bent his mouth down to the hand he still held, brushing his lips lightly against her flesh. “Tennie, dear,” he said without looking directly at her, “I want you to be certain about Wash.”

  She found her heart beating faster. Her breath seemed to be coming out that way too, matching his. The electricity sparking in the air, the suppression of emotion in his voice and on his face told her he might be asking her to reconsider her choice of brothers.

  Lafayette was handsome, successful, and like his brother, almost overpoweringly masculine. Tennie felt confused and couldn’t for a minute seem to get her brain to work.

  Both brothers had human frailties, but all she could think of was that Wash was 100 percent, whereas Lafayette was 98 percent. It was that two percent that bothered her. She knew she wasn’t being logical and couldn’t explain her reasons if asked. But her answer came from a sure heart and a sure brain, even if they were a little stirred up at the moment.

  “Yes,” she said. “I’m sure about Wash.”

  Lafayette nodded, kissing her hands before leaving. She followed him to the door, where he almost ran into Hawkshaw as he stepped over the threshold.

  A frown crossed Lafayette’s brow. “Do you make it a habit to eavesdrop on private conversations?”

  “Listening to a middle-aged man making a fool of himself over a little prairie chicken is too entertaining to resist,” Hawkshaw replied.

  Tennie’s mouth dropped open.

  “My dear sir,” Lafayette said. “I was about to accuse you of the same thing, lurking about and stalking our darling marshal.”

  “And what are you going to do about it?” Hawkshaw said, raising his voice.

  They were beginning to attract a crowd. Tennie felt paralyzed, unable to understand what was going on. Lafayette had not been making a fool of himself, and Hawkshaw was not stalking her. Why would he pretend otherwise?

  “I’m going to have someone break the knuckles on your right hand,” Lafayette said, “if you bother this girl.”

  “Please . . .” Tennie said.

  Neither man paid attention to her.

  Hawkshaw continued to taunt Lafayette in an ever-louder voice. “Are you too cowardly to do anything to me on your own? You Southern gentlemen make me sick with all this empty talk about manners and protecting women.”

  Lafayette laughed at him. “If you think you are going to get me to engage in something as crude as a gun battle with you, you are sadly mistaken. If you want to fight, we will do it with swords or bare knuckles right here in the street.”

  “Please stop!” Tennie pleaded.

  Hawkshaw looked at her and bowed. “As the lady wishes.” He turned and walked away.

  Tennie looked up at Lafayette. “What—?”

  He laughed again and leaned closer to her, speaking low in her ear. “Don’t worry. He’s not going to do anything that might damage that gun hand of his.”

  CHAPTER 3

  Tennie didn’t have time to ponder about Hawkshaw too much; it was payday at Fort Griffin, and soldiers began pouring into town. Frequenting the saloons, they also wanted to experience at least one or two nights in Lafayette’s elaborate gambling hall—the Silver Moon—pretending they were rich. All the soiled doves had fled town before the big shoot-out with the Rangers, but Shorty predicted it would just be a matter of time before more took their place.

  Tennie had so many difficulties with the scarlet ladies, the thought depressed her, but in far-flung western towns with few women, prostitution was more openly tolerated than
in places back East. Tennie could do nothing about it and preferred not to dwell on it. In the meantime, the soldiers filtered into the Mexican section of town where a few señoritas did not mind taking their money. If the men caused trouble, they were knifed and thrown back into the American section, and nobody knew anything.

  Due to drunkenness and clashes with civilians, two soldiers from the saloons were dragged in by rough men who served at various times as strongarms for the smaller establishments. Cowboys didn’t mind doing occasional work not on horseback as long as it wasn’t considered permanent employment. Lafayette used numerous men at different times but always kept at least one on the payroll as his personal helper, usually someone from his past he trusted. She thought he must have great faith in Giddings Coltrane despite his regrettable lapse as an unsuccessful train robber.

  * * *

  Tennie had the cowboys put the prisoners in the farthest cell, having been instructed when she began the job to keep the soldiers separated from the usual town drunks. The two privates were noisy and boisterous, and it worried her that they weren’t going to calm down. When the cowboys left to go back to the saloon, she could still hear the cursing of the soldiers as she walked into the living quarters.

  It was late, but her stepsons were still up. None of them could go to bed early on the weekends. Six eyes were staring at her as they stood listening to the filth filtering down from upstairs. Tennie opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, she heard the sound of the front door being kicked open,

  Gid’s voice called to her. “Miss Tennie! Miss Tennie! I got a rounder.”

  They heard sounds of scuffling.

  “And he’s a contrary ole polecat,” Gid said, raising his voice.

  Tennie ran to the office. Gid had one elbow around the neck of a belligerent soldier and the other twisting the soldier’s arm behind his back. He squirmed, screaming obscenities at Gid. When he saw Tennie, he spat in front of her, grimacing and hollering in pain when Gid tightened his hold without regard to wrenched muscles and broken bones.