Teaching Miss Maisie Jane (2 page)

Maisie
looked down at the driver of the stagecoach who was obviously dead and stepped back away from the body, feeling a bit faint. She looked over to the man who had accosted her. He’d actually struck her with his bare hand on part of her person that was… that was… personal.  She saw from his jerky motions as he unhitched the horses that he was still livid. Shaking with fright and indignation, she went to back of stagecoach and opened the back hatch to do as she was told. She found four blankets inside and she pulled them out and then just stood by the coach door holding them because she didn’t know what to do.

Jake
Maddox was furious. In less than a day’s time, his tenure as lawman would be over. All he wanted to do was testify at the trial, turn in his badge and collect his money. Then, he was going to the land office in Virginia City to file for a homestead. He’d have no more truck with outlaws and crooked judges. It was time for him to get on with having a life, find a good woman and start having him some kids. He was done with the law. He was done with the job of killing worthless men before they could kill him.

For
the last twelve years, he’d done his duty. It had taken him a long time to figure out that trying to be the law in the territories wasn’t upholding the law. It was bounty hunting, tracking down fugitives; it was trying to settle Indian hostilities, wasting his time at pretend trials, and dealing with hanging judges. Now, he’d had to kill three more men who’d tried to hold up the stagecoach and that still hadn’t stopped them from killing Frank Lamb. Lamb had a family, and he’d been good man. Now, he was going to have to haul the dead bodies into Bisbee, and he hated dealing with dead bodies.

Jake
tied five of the horses to a scrub bush and climbed onto the back of the sixth without a saddle.

He
found Miss Jackson standing by the door of the coach holding blankets and looking very pale. “Do you know how to fire a gun?” he demanded.

She
shook her head furiously making those fat curls bounce, as he slid off the horse. She backed away from him.

“Get
back into the coach, get down on the floor and stay there until I get back,” Jake ordered. He pulled his Walker Colt, 6-shot out of his holster and handed it to her as he reached inside and retrieved his rifle, and saddlebags. He unbuckled one of his saddlebags and pulled out a box of cartridges and began to reload the rifle. “If anyone besides me comes to the coach, point this gun at them and tell them to stay outside. If they try to enter, point this at them and pull this trigger. Do you understand my instructions this time?”

Miss
Maisie Jane nodded and got into the coach without a single word of sass.

It
took an hour to backtrack and locate the bandits he’d shot. Jake brought back three dead men, wrapped in their bedrolls and trussed up with their lassos. He also brought back two of their horses.  The third horse he'd found injured, so on top of everything else, he’d had to put down a good horse for the second time that day, and that really pissed him off.

He
wrapped Frank Lamb in a blanket and used his rope to tie up the bundle. Jake was bone tired and weary by the time he had taken care of the dead men. He finally remembered the woman still in the coach and he told her she could come out. She refused to look in the direction of the dead men, rolled up and lined up like logs. He loaded all four bodies into the coach as Miss Maisie Jane Jackson didn't say a word.

Jake
re-hitched the horses, and tied them to the back of the coach, before helping Miss Maisie Jane up into the driver’s seat of the stagecoach. Neither of them spoke as he got the horses moving and they continued on their journey.

The
sun was beginning to set when Jake realized that there was no way they were going to make it to Bisbee that day. That little gal, sitting beside him all prim and proper was a pale as a ghost. Several times he’d had to grab her to keep her from being bounced off the seat and she’d looked at him with that don’t-you-dare-touch-me look. He pulled the stagecoach over to small stand of juniper trees and began the process of unhitching the horses.

“Is
there a home station nearby?” Maisie Jane asked.

“No,
the last station was the one you stopped at,” Jake said. “We’re going to have to spend the night here, and leave out at first light.”

“We
can’t stay here together, alone,” Maisie Jane exclaimed. “It’s not proper!”

Jake
gave a heavy sigh. “I can’t help that. Look, Miss, I’ve didn't have much of a day. I had to shoot my horse, and then another. I walked near ten miles to catch the stagecoach and no sooner did I get there, then I am dealing with that attempted robbery. I’m tired, the horses are tired, and I can’t drive the coach in the dark because there ain’t no moon out tonight. We’re going to spread some blankets and go to sleep, and I don't intend to hear another word. You can sleep on that side of that little tree and I’ll sleep on the other. It might not be proper but it’s the best I can do under the circumstances.”

There was a long silence.  Jake could hear the wheels of her mind turning, and he prayed she wouldn't argue with him.

Finally, it appeared she'd made the right decision, because all she said was, “Could we have a fire, Mr. Maddox?”

“No,”
Jake said firmly. “This is Indian country and they’ve been stirred up lately. We don’t need to be letting anyone know we’re here.”  Dark was settling in fast, so Jake unrolled his bedroll and handed the young woman a blanket. He spread out his bedroll and lay down.

Maisie
Jane wrapped the blanket around her body and curled up on the opposite side of the tree. She lay quiet for a while, then “Mr. Maddox?”

“Yeah
.”

“Those
men today…”

“Best
not to think about it, Miss,” Jake interrupted.

“Have
you killed men before, Mr. Maddox?” Maisie Jane asked.

“Yes,
when I had to, never because I wanted to,” Jake answered

There
was a long quiet spell and Jake thought the girl had fallen asleep.  “Mr. Maddox?”

“Best
you try to get some sleep, ma’am,” Jake said gently.

“Some
men need to die, don’t they?” Maisie Jane asked quietly. “When they done awful bad things, and hurt people. They deserve to die, don’t they?”

Jake
rolled over. “That’s not for us to decide, that’s for a court of law to decide. If a man shoots at you, you have a right to shoot back. You have a right to protect yourself. But, if a man is caught and taken to trial, then it’s up to the legal system to decide what needs to be done.”

“Mr
. Maddox?”

Jake
gave a sigh. “Yes, Miss Maisie Jane?”

“If
my brother was alive, he would have shot you for manhandling my person today.”

Jake
snorted and grinned. “Not likely, Miss. He’d have probably shaken my hand and said it was a job well done because you deserved it. Now go to sleep or I'll do it again.”

Jake woke before true dawn. The horizon was getting lighter but it would be another hour before the sun came up fully. He looked over at the little Miss, and he smiled. She was a pretty little thing, all dainty, lace and ruffles. And, from her slight accent he guessed she’d had a genteel, southern upbringing - not Deep South, her accent wasn’t that strong, but still southern. Then, he frowned because he knew she had no business being in the territories. Life was hard in the West, and genteel women didn’t fare well under hard work, and rough men. Once they got to Bisbee he’d have to see that she got a room at the Fair View Hotel. It was the only place in town that lent rooms to decent folks. Then he’d get her on the next stage heading eastward, maybe even get her a god damn escort to see she got back safely.

He
got up and hitched the horses, before walking a short distance from the coach to attend himself. When he got back, the girl - or rather, young woman - was still asleep. He waited until the sun was just breaking over the horizon before he nudged her awake.

“Miss,
you need to be getting up now. We have to get on the road.”

Maisie
Jane slowly opened her eyes and then jerked away, her eyes wide and frightened.

“No
reason to be scared, ma’am, it’s just me, Jake.”

“Oh,”
Maisie Jane said and sat up and tried to straighten her clothing. She picked up her blanket, and folded it neatly into a square as she looked around. “Is there somewhere I can freshen up?”

Jake
looked amused. “The stagecoach doesn’t come equipped with a wash stand, Miss.”

Maisie
Jane’s eyes snapped open with temper. “I know that, Mr. Maddox, but that doesn’t change that fact that I need to… uh, hum.”

Jake
still looked amused. He pointed. “Go down that way about five or six small trees, there a fair size rock that you can hide behind and do your…” He grinned when the girl’s chest heaved in indignation. “Do your… uh hum,” he finished.

Maisie
Jane turned on her heel and marched three steps before she turned back and marched over to the stagecoach. Once there she tried to climb up the front wheel but she couldn’t quite reach the seat to grab hold and to pull herself up. She bounced a few times and then almost lost her balance.

Jake
followed her and stood behind her for a moment and then reached up, grabbed her around waist and set her back on the ground. “What are you trying to do?”

Maisie
Jane clenched her little fists. “Will you please keep your hands
off
my person!” she snapped. “I need my valise, the pretty one with the rose tapestry.”

“Then
ask for help,” Jake said through gritted teeth, “before you hurt yourself.”  He climbed up and untied the specified valise, and handed it down to her.

Maisie
Jane turned around and stamped off, holding the valise to her chest tightly.

Jake
finished the last minute details that needed to be checked before breaking camp. He looked down past the trees but he didn’t see any sign of the girl. “Miss, are you okay?”

There
was no answer. Jake, suddenly thinking of how stupid he was for letting an innocent white girl go off by herself in Indian country, grabbed his rifle and took off running. “Miss, are you okay?”

“Of
course,” Maisie Jane answered as she stepped out from behind the rock. She was wearing different clothing, a white shirt with ruffles, pearl button at her throat, and a blue skirt not nearly as full without the whalebone hoops. She looked… beautiful, Jake thought and then wiped that thought out of his mind and substituted another - she was a prissy, little easterner, who had no business being here.

“Next
time, answer!” Jake snarled as they walked back. “We have to get on the road. I have to be in Bisbee today. With any luck we’ll be there by noon, by which time I’ll be hungry enough to eat a steer raw.”

“Oh,”
Maisie Jane exclaimed. “I have some food in my reticule, and there was a jar of tea in the coach.”

They
both turned and looked at the coach door, knowing what was inside.

“What a reticule?” Jake asked.

“My
personals bag, it’s a small round bag with lovely beading and a drawstring,” Maisie Jane said softly. “I left it under the drivers’ seat last night. The jar of tea is…” she waved her hand vaguely toward to coach.

Jake
climbed up on the seat and grabbed a small black bag. He handed to Miss Maisie Jane as he climbed down and then he walked around to the opposite side of the coach so she wouldn’t have to see the bodies.

Maisie
Jane could hear him opening the door and swearing and decided that Mr. Maddox was not a gentleman. A few seconds later he came around with the jar in his hands.

Maisie
walked over and sat down by the tree where they had slept, on opposite sides, and opened her bag carefully and pulled out the wrapped cornbread. She spread the small offering on her handkerchief. “It’s not much but you are welcome to help yourself. I’m more thirsty than hungry.”

Jake
opened the jar and sniffed and took a sip. “Not tea, Miss, beer.”

“Oh,”
Maisie looked disappointed and shook her head.

Jake
pulled out his canteen and shook it. There wasn’t much in it, maybe half cup. “It’s water, and it’s clean,” he said and handed it to her.

She
shook her head. “I couldn’t.”

“You
will,” Jake said sternly. “I’ll drink the beer, you drink the water. We both need liquids more than we need food, but I’m not passing up that either. There’s a clear spring about two hours from here. Used to be a swing station but it got wiped out too many times by Indians, the stage line can’t get anyone to man it now. We can stop there, take care of the horses and drink ‘til we’re full up, and refill our containers. Go on now, drink it.”

Maisie
Jane unscrewed the lid and closed her eyes as she sipped slowly, her face looking soft and satisfied. Her little tongue came out and in one complete circle wiped the water from her lips.

Jake
got up suddenly, turned his back and walked off. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Maisie
Jane opened her eyes and looked puzzled as Mr. Maddox limped off, wondering when he’d hurt himself. Then, she took another sip of water and thought of how truly delicious it was.

Jake
got himself out of sight quickly. Confound it!  One look at the little gal’s face, lips and tongue, and he’d gotten a hard-on that strained at his trousers!  God Almighty, he couldn’t let her see his cock at full attention. He tried to think of a truly ugly woman. The problem with that was any woman that had tits and an ass looked good out in the territories, and the longer you’d been without one, the better they looked. And, damn it, it had been too long since he’d been with a woman!  There were whores in Bisbee, a whole house of them. He’d been with several of them and they were good. They weren’t as pretty as Miss Maisie Jane Jackson but… damn it, damn it, damn it--he was getting harder. Jake looked over his shoulder and yanked his fly open to release his aching cock and gave into the pressure. He pumped it hard, and pumped it some more until he gritted his teeth with the final release, and then he pumped it some more to make sure it was emptied. Breathing hard, he stuffed himself back into his trousers, and gave it a little hitch to make sure he wasn’t hardening up again.

By
the time Jake walked back he thought he had himself under control. It had just been too long. He needed a woman. He’d get himself a whore in Bisbee and he’d keep her all night. It would be worth it.

“Are
you all right, Mr. Maddox?” Maisie Jane asked when Jake came back, sat down and drank a good third of the quart jar of beer in several long drinks. He looked a bit stiff, and tense like he was in pain. She dropped her eyes when she saw he was sitting stiffly. He might be having problems with his bowels, but things like that were never proper to speak of, and she wouldn’t. But, she thought it a shame that such a strong man, good-looking man could be brought down by such an ailment.

“Eat
up,” Jake ordered taking a large piece of cornbread practically swallowing it whole and following it with more beer.

“I
was waiting for you,” she said politely. “Mr. Maddox, you said you have to be in Bisbee by 3:00 p.m. for a trial. Did someone break the law?”

Jake
laughed and was relieved to think of something else. His cock wouldn’t go off if he was thinking of a murder trial. “Yes ma’am. Men break the laws a lot out here in the territories. The territory of Arizona is a ways away from declaring itself ready to be civilized. A lot of bad men come to the territories running away from the law in other states.”

“What
did this man do?” Maisie Jane asked curiously.

“He
murdered men, Miss,” Jake answered taking the last piece of cornbread when she motioned him to take it. He’d already eaten two pieces to her one and she’d shaken her head when he’d offered her the greasy bacon.

“What
will happen to him?”

“He’ll
hang, ma’am,” Jake answered. “Judge George C. Lement is a hanging judge. He might give a man a week in jail for going on a drunk and breaking up the saloon, maybe longer if it’s his saloon. But, for horse thieving, robbing of any kind, or murder, he hangs ‘em. Walter Banks, has murdered many men, robbed more. I brought him in two months ago, but the Judge put off his trial and has been holding him over at Cree Creek Penitentiary. I was up in Indian Springs when I got the telegram, with the trial date.”

“Why?”

“Why what?” Jake asked.

“Why
did the judge put him in prison first instead of giving him a trial right away?  The Judge made it most inconvenient for you didn’t he?”

Jake
grinned. “Yes, ma’am, but Judge Lement is the only law in these parts and he pretty much does as he pleases.”

“But
why?” Miss Maisie Jane asked.

“Miss,
the Judge, put Walter Banks in Cree Creek to make him suffer,” Jake answered honestly. “Walter Banks has probably been starved, beaten, and worse over at the penitentiary on the judge’s orders. Now, he’s set a trial date. I brought him in, so I’ll testify in court, and the judge will order him to be hung.”

“That
hardly sounds like a fair trial if it’s predestined that he will hang,” Miss Maisie Jane exclaimed.

“It’s
the judge’s court, not mine,” Jake said drinking the last of the beer and getting up. “After today, I won’t be a lawman any longer and it will not be my concern.”

“Would
it be impertinent of me to ask why?” Maisie Jane asked tilting her head, her green eyes wide with curiosity. “Why are you quitting the law, Mr. Maddox?”

“Because,
I’m tired of being a lawman, ma’am. I’m planning on going up to Big Basin area in Nevada and getting me a homestead. I’m from Nevada, ma’am, and it’s been a state for six years now. It’s a bit more civilized. I took the job as Deputy so’n I could save to buy some cattle and what not to get a good start. Now, I’ve got it and I don’t need to be a lawman any more. I’ve got a good stake of earnings owed to me, and it’s time for me settle down.”

Jake
offered the young woman his hand and she took it to get to her feet. Jake checked his pocket watch against the rising sun. It was 6:18 a.m. If they had any luck, and the horses held out they were six to seven hours from Bisbee. As he gave Maisie Jane a boost to get her up on the stagecoach seat, he felt his lower parts hardening up again. If he had any luck at all, he was twelve to fourteen hours from having a good whore in his bed.

* * * * *

It was one o’clock when Jake drove the stage into the town. He drove directly to the Sheriff’s office and pulled the brake.

“Stay
put, ma’am. I’ll be back in a minute or so if the Sheriff is in his office,” Jake ordered.

Sheriff
George Quinn was in his office and when he’d seen the stagecoach pull up to his door he knew something was wrong. He met his good friend at the door.

“Jake?”

“Ambushed,” Jake said. “They tried to rob the stage. Frank Lamb is dead, and I shot the other three. After we take care of the bodies, you might want to go through your posters and see if there are any warrants out on them.”

“Who’s
the girl?” Sheriff asked giving a nod upward where Maisie Jane sat demurely atop the stage, with her hands in her lap.

“The
only passenger. A belle from back east.”

“She
come out here by herself?” the sheriff asked frowning.

“From
what she’s told me, she didn’t start out that way, but she’s made it from St. Louis alone. What do want me to do with them?” Jake asked.

The
Sheriff gave a single nod of his head, having made a decision. “Take ‘em over to the livery stable and I’ll send someone to get John Peabody. Nothing the undertaker likes better than fleecing the town for burying dead outlaws. What are you going to do with her?”