Oklahoma kiss (36 page)

      
Adam realized tempers could quickly get out of hand, and since the crowd's opinion was obviously divided, he had to do something to prevent chaos from breaking out. "Warren, I know how you feel, but that won't solve anything. The best thing you can do right now is to take Coy to a friend's house or over to the hotel and see how badly he is hurt. Not knowing his condition, I doubt if he should make that long trip out to the ranch."

      
Not wanting Warren and his brothers to think the men might go free, he told the three men, "All right, you are all under arrest."

      
"What for? For calling him a stinking half-breed? There ain't no law against speaking the truth."

      
Adam's voice was stern, with no vestige of sympathy in its hardness. "The charge is assault, and I'm liable to think of several more if you don't shut up!"

      
"No," Coy mumbled through swollen lips. "I don't want to press charges."

      
"Are you sure?" Adam asked incredulously. Then the thought quickly crossed his mind that Coy might be afraid the men would retaliate if he allowed him to put them in jail.

      
Coy swiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with the side of his hand. "Damn right, I’m sure," he mumbled thickly. "I plan to catch them one at a time and give them a dose of their own medicine." Even suffering from severe pain, he brandished his fist at them. "This has your name on it, you mangy sons of bitches!"

      
"Any time, half-breed, any time!"

      
"That's enough!" Adam shouted. "One more word out of any of you and I’ll personally charge you with disturbing the peace!"

      
A faceless man in the crowd spoke up, "You do that, Injun lover, and I’ll have their fine paid before you can get them locked up!"

      
Adam slowly looked in the direction where the voice came. "If whoever said that wants to step forward, I’ll gladly remove my guns and my badge and walk with him around back." The crowd became deathly silent as he waited. But no one stepped forward.

      
Reluctant to let the men go, Adam had no other choice since Coy was unwilling to file charges. And although he had been publicly challenged, he could not allow his personal pride or feelings to stand in the way of his duty. "It's against my better judgment but you men are free to go. I don't even want to hear of you causing trouble again, though. If I do, I'll throw you under the jail! That's no threat either, it's a promise!"

      
Even though Blair had been busy attending to Coy, she had heard everything. Rage, stark and vivid, glittered in her eyes as she stood and turned and glared at Adam. "For your information, I am about to disturb the peace. If you want to throw me into jail, you can, but not before I've spoken my mind."

      
Adam's voice was heavy with sarcasm but it was not directed at Blair. "After what has happened here, disturb the peace all you want. If there are any complaints, I’ll pay your fine myself . . . even before I can get you locked up!"

      
She then turned and stared accusingly at the people, most of whom she had known all of her life; she also noticed they were all whites. "I heard what that little boy said, how you all stood around and watched those . . . hooligans beat Coy almost senseless. He said no one objected. Why didn't someone try to stop them?" When no one said anything, she wrinkled her nose and scornfully tossed her head. "I can understand you women for not protesting, but you who call yourselves, men . . . Mr. Perkins, Mr. Smith, Mr. Radigan, shame on you! Shame on all of you! If you were too scared to help Coy, at least you could have called for help."

      
Jory Radigan stepped forward, his face twisted with anger. "I don't care if you are a woman and that your brothers are standing behind you,"—he glanced behind him —"I think I speak for most of us here. We're not about to stand here and be talked to like this by an impertinent, smart-mouthed, half-breed squaw!"

      
Adam moved forward threateningly, but Blair stopped him. "No, please, he has more on his mind so let him have his say, especially since he is speaking for all of these fine people of Doughtery."

      
"He doesn't speak for me," someone said.

      
"Or me!"

      
"Me, either!"

      
The crowd quickly separated into two groups, each side about equal in number.

      
Feeling brave with so many people supporting him, Radigan wagged his finger at Blair. "I've always hated the sight of you! You had everything you ever wanted, a fine home, a good education," he scathingly raked his eyes over her, "and pretty clothes, while my little Kate had to work in our store and wear gingham check just to help make ends meet. It wouldn't have bothered her so much if you hadn't told lies against her and made all the young folks hate her. You're the reason why my little Kate ran away from home! And your entire family is just alike, all of you are good-for-nothing, half-breed trash!"

      
"Trash!" she spat out the word contemptuously. "What makes you think that?"

      
"Because it's not right for murdering redskins to have better than whites! But, mark my words, times are changing and as soon as the land is opened to whites, it won't be long before trash such as you are sent back where you belong. Then decent folks can own good land and properly provide for their families." He shook his head sadly. It's too late for my little Kate, but it isn't too late for others."

      
Blair's eyes flashed with indignation. She clenched her hands so tightly, her nails dug painfully into her palms, yet she scarcely noticed. "Let me ask you something, Mr. Radigan. Where do you suggest they send us? To Tennessee? Alabama? That is where we came from. That is where our people lived for hundreds of years until people like you forced my people to leave! I believe you also mentioned that Indians should not have good land. It so happens, when my grandfather and grandmother first came here, they barely eked out a living on this red clay soil. Fortunately, there was plenty of wild game and my grandfather was an excellent marksman, and my grandmother had knowledge of what wild food was good to eat, or they would have starved to death the first two or three winters. It was only through hard work and by the sweat of their brows that they survived and turned this land into something productive and worthwhile. Thank God, all whites are not like you, just like all Indians are not murdering savages! You seem to think all we own was handed to us as a gift. Apparently you are not smart enough to know how much work goes into a ranch! My brothers have worked from daylight until dark to make the ranch successful, but they are no different than so many others in this community. I had my share of chores too; keeping the stables cleaned out was one of them, so don't you dare complain about your precious Kate having to work in your store while I was shoveling horse manure!"

      
"Regardless of what you say, it still isn't right for Indians and breeds to have better than whites! If my little Kate . . ."

      
"I’m tired of hearing about your precious little Kate! She weighed at least two hundred pounds by the time she was twelve, and if she had kept her hands out of the candy jars, maybe your store would have been more prosperous! As I told you a minute ago, my father, brothers and grandfather are the men responsible for making our ranch successful, but it was not always so. There is one year in particular that I can recall how scarce money was. When Warren sold the cattle, he bought each of us a small bag of candy from your store. I hoarded my candy because I knew it was all I would get until he could sell more cattle. I
      
made the mistake of showing it to your precious little Kate. When she told me that she had licked each piece in the candy jar, I threw mine away because I had the silly notion if I ate after her, I would be just like her and I could not stomach that thought. I could talk for hours and still not tell everything I know about her. But for your information, no one liked her because she was a braggart, a liar, a cheat, and a thief!"

      
"Hush your tongue, you half-breed squaw!" Radigan raised his hand to strike Blair, but Adam caught his hand.

      
"If you hit her, you'll have to come through me," he muttered through clenched teeth.

      
A murmur of voices rippled through the other side, most speaking loud enough for Radigan to hear that they agreed with Blair about what she said concerning his daughter. Then the other side began muttering words like "half-breed" and "red savages."

      
Suddenly, a shot rang out and the crowd became silent. Warren slowly lowered his rifle. "Collin, Samuel, take Coy to the hotel. Blair, you go, too. I’ll be along in a few minutes." He took a deep breath and looked around at the crowd, slowly, as if memorizing each face. "I’ve lived here near Doughtery since I was a small boy, and I would have never believed what I've seen or heard tonight. To all of you who have stood behind us, you'll never know how much my family and I appreciate it."

      
A woman spoke up, "You don't know how much we appreciated it when Coy drove that steer over to our place when Sam broke his leg. And if the truth was known, you Townsends have probably helped almost everybody here at one time or
      
another."

      
"Thank you for your kind words, ma'am." Warren turned to leave, then he stopped short and stared hard at a man. "Bill Harper, are you standing with them?"

      
"I reckon I am, Warren."

      
"Did Radigan speak for you?"

      
"Not the part about fat Kate. I think most people here agree with your sister about her."

      
Warren waved that remark aside. "Radigan's daughter isn't important. What about the other things he said? Do you agree with them?"

      
"Well ... yes, I do. To be truthful about it, you'll never know how much it galled me to ask Indians for a permit to settle on land that should be free for the taking."

      
"You’ve felt like this for all these years?"

      
"Yes, I have."

      
Warren stared at him hard while gnawing on his bottom lip as if waging a mental debate. Finally, he spoke, "Could I speak to you alone for a minute?"

      
"No, I’d rather not. Anything you want to talk to me about . . . you can say in front of everybody."

      
Warren shrugged. "Have it your way. It's a shame we didn't know how you felt about Indians a couple of years ago when your wife was sick and needed to see that doctor in St. Louis. I don't recall you having any reluctance about Indians when you came to me for money after the bank refused to loan you any."

      
Bill paled. "I didn't borrow any money from your brothers, I borrowed it from you. And, I might add, that's a mighty cheap shot you're taking at me, Warren. I never expected a man like

you deliberately trying to shame a fellow."

      
"It isn't deliberate," he replied curtly "I asked to speak to you alone, but you refused. Now, about this money you owe me and my brothers . . . and you did borrow it from them as much as you did me. Everybody knows we are partners in the Bar 4. All profits are split equally, and profit is what you were loaned. Since Radigan spoke for you, I’m sure my brothers won't object if I speak for them. I can wait on what you owe me, but Samuel, Collin, and Coy are calling your debt in. They'll expect it by the end of the week."

      
Bill's face paled. "I can't have it by then."

      
"Then raise it."

      
"I can't, not at this time of the year."

      
"Then I guess it will be up to them to decide whether or not to go to the Indian Council and formally request that your land permit be revoked."

      
"The Council can't do that. My permit is paid for two more years."

      
"Go home and read clause eighteen, then either raise the money you owe my brothers or start packing."

      
Warren slowly looked at the people who sided against him and his family. "I'm giving all of you fair warning right now. I'll go through my books and see who I owe money to and you will be promptly paid. If you owe me, I want it within the week. I won't soil your house and I don't expect you to soil mine. None of you are welcome at the Bar 4. I will give the order to our ranch hands to shoot anybody trespassing unless they have legitimate business. As you all know, cattle know no boundaries; I won't prevent anyone from rounding up their strays, but I will expect the same courtesy." With that, Warren straightened his shoulders and walked away without once looking back.

      
The crowd was strangely quiet as Adam waited until Warren was out of sight before he spoke, "Folks, I realize this dance is a traditional event, and you look forward to it every year. Those of you who want to go back inside and continue on with the festivities, please do so now, but leave what has happened here tonight outside. Those of you who want to stand out here and argue over who is right and who is wrong . . . don't. Go on home and cool off, and give yourselves a chance to think about what has occurred. One man could be seriously injured, and friendships that have lasted for years have been destroyed. It seems to me that is enough damage for one night."

      
Chapter 21

      
Adam waited at least an hour until the explosive situation at the stockade appeared calm and secure enough for him to go to the hotel.