The Milch Bride (24 page)

Jackson changed the mood. “All right men, let’s mount up,
remember to ride armed.”

The preacher looked more confused. But in all the commotion,
no one bothered to explain.

<><><> 

The men had loaded the four dead bodies into the buckboard
like so much cord wood. Jackson and Cliff tied their horses to the tail gate,
then mounted up to drive, each checking and loading their guns. Jackson looked
around, scowling. “Where’s Tony? He should have been the first to ride in
today. Hank ride ahead, see what you can find.”

“I’ll check Maria’s house. Maybe he pulled a James today.”

Jackson laughed, shook his head. “Did you see how red those
two got?”

“Yeah, almost makes you feel guilty for teasing them.
Almost.” Cliff laughed.

“Oh, Hank, check the Eastman spread if you don’t find him in
town. He was supposed to be keeping watch there,” Jackson hollered.

Hank waved as he put his horse to a gallop.

Jackson looked back at the ranch, waving to the small crowd
that remained. He knew the two young hands would stay close, rifles ready.
James Boyd would not be distracted by Rubye again. He would be wary and guard
them and J.D. Even as he watched, the irritated preacher turned around to head
home. Behind the riders in his group, he saw Charlie Dawson in his red-wheeled
buggy.

His father-in-law had been behind all this trouble, if not
at the end, at least in the beginning. He had done it for profit. Probably the
only thing that ever prodded Charles Dawson was his greed. No, he hadn’t come
to the ranch because of greed. He had loved Donna, spoiled her rotten with his
love, but had loved her. And, Jackson knew he loved the baby. Surprisingly, he
seemed to be fond of Hattie. But why had he told them now? Did he expect
Jackson to forgive him as easily as Hattie seemed to have? Despite all she had
suffered, she always had the ability to look at other people with compassion.
All the way into town, he pondered what could be in the man’s mind and heart.

<><><> 

Hattie used the strong lye soap solution to wash the walls
and floor boards, shuddering again about what might have been as she
straightened the covers, remade the crib, and then went ahead and changed the
sheets on both beds. Even though she was the only one on them, she shuddered at
the sight of the bed and it was the only thing she could do to change the way
it looked. Finally, she laid her father’s rifle across the bed, left the pistol
on the dresser as she worked.

She had insisted that Rubye rest and even though she wanted
to refuse, James had made sure that she obeyed and layed down. James sat in the
kitchen, drinking the hot, over-boiled coffee, his guns ready. The fish still
soaked in a bowl of salted water, the uneaten meal still sat in pots on the
cooled stove. Hattie didn’t dare speculate on his state of mind. Finished in
the bedroom, she picked up the pistol and moved it and the rifle to the dining
room table.

She used the work, grateful to have it to keep her mind away
from what was happening in town. J.D. was once again sleeping on the cot
mattress in the living area. Hattie checked him, thrilled that he still slept.
All the drama and his first experience with evil had exhausted him.

She fetched a new bucket of water, then stared at the dining
room chairs where the older couple had been tied. For several minutes, she
struggled with the knots on the leather thongs and finally freed the last one.
She scrubbed the chairs too, horrified to realize it was blood on the top rung
of the tall ladder back where James had been tied.

Nervously, she laid the rawhide strips on the table, pushing
aside more plates and silverware. She set the bucket beside the damp chair seat
and again attacked the floor, mopping and scrubbing the dark red stains away.
She rinsed the floor in long sweeps out the door and across the porch.
Satisfied that all the blood was up, she went back to carefully smooth the
floor, using a pail of clean water and a flat piece of sandstone to sand where bullets
had gouged the wood, careful that there would be no splinters for Jackie’s’
tender hands and knees as he moved from his swimming squirm to an actual crawl.
Finished in the living room, she again moved the guns back to her bed and used
the same method to smooth out and polish the bullet gouges in the bedroom
floor.

Knees and back aching, hands red, Hattie was glad when J.D.
began his waking fuss. She used the few minutes it would take him to become an
angry complainer to clean up any water and grit and return broom, mop, sandstone
and pail to the kitchen. She noticed James was sitting in front of the table
playing with the rawhide strips, his hand over his face. Like her, he was
reliving the raid. Unlike her, he wasn’t worrying about the men entering Star,
she knew if he were he would be busy, too.

It was Rubye who woke them both from their thoughts. “Isn’t
anyone going to take care of this little boy?” She held the baby, who had quit immediately
when she bent to pick him up. Hattie hurried forward to take the wet boy to change
and feed. As she left, she noticed Rubye wrapping an arm around James and
bending to kiss his forehead. She was relieved to see him look up and smile
before wrapping an arm around her.

<><><> 

It was three o’clock when they arrived in the Mexican end of
town. Jackson was relieved that both Hank and Tony were both waiting for them
there. “Are you all right, Tony?”

He doffed his hat, and Jackson saw a white bandage. “Better,
thanks to Hank showing up.”

“You were right, he was tied up at the Eastman spread,” Hank
said.

“They said they were going to bring Maria back, and …”

Jackson felt his own chest tighten as he relived the minutes
before the gunfire at the ranch. He looked over his shoulder at the wagon, “You
don’t have to worry about that.”

“That’s what Hank said,” he rode up and lifted the tarp
anyway, then grinned.

The street seemed deserted as they drew up at the jail, but
soon curious onlookers began to gather, drawn by the wagon full of bodies.

The sheriff stepped out of the cool dark of the saloon and
then ducked back in. From the corner of his eye, Jackson caught the motion.
Stepping down, he motioned his men to join him inside the thick adobe walls of
the jail, even as a gun fired from the window of the store across the street.
Cliff returned fire and a dark half-breed fell from the window to the ground.

The sheriff shouted over at them even as onlookers
scattered. “Throw down your guns, Jackson, and you and your men will be given a
fair trial.”

“Go to hell, Tate. Throw out your gun and badge, because we
intend to see you hang. The rest of your “deputies” should do the same. Texas
Rangers will be on the next stage.”

“Too bad you’re not as clever as you think, Jackson. When
Seth showed me the telegram, I sent an order to ignore it. That stage will be
empty.”

Jackson looked around the small room at the determined faces
of the four men with him. Cliff reached over to the gun case and pulled out a
shotgun and shells. “Guess, we’ll have to wait and see who’s right, unless you
want to step out and surrender,” he called.

It seemed to take forever for the hands to reach
three-thirty and sweep past. When the stage pulled up, Jackson realized he was
holding his breath. The driver stepped down, luggage was unloaded, horses
changed, and a couple stepped aboard, then the stage took off.

“Jackson, looks like you lose. I’ve got you surrounded. Come
out,” Tate racked his shotgun.

“Stay put, Jackson,” a voice called from the saloon shadows,
“Tate…” but before he could complete the order, the sheriff twirled and fired
the shotgun at the shadows. The ranger rolled and fired and a second ranger
sent bullets through the fat target.

A gun fired from the second story of the saloon brought
answering fire from the rangers and the shooter pitched to the floor. Outside,
fire was exchanged from Thompson’s store and the stables with the cowboys
inside the jail. When the smoke cleared, two wounded men were herded into the
jail and Jackson met the rangers in the street.

“We got off at Red Rim, and rode in ahead of the stage. Knew
when we got the second wire you needed our help.” He nodded at Cliff, “Of
course your man there had told us you were having trouble up this way. Told us
he would wire us if anything else happened. Texas is so big, seems every town
is having trouble between cattlemen and squatters these days. Sorry, we didn’t
come up sooner.”

Jackson waited for him to pause. “Glad you arrived in time,
it might have been another blood-bath here.”

“Yeah, looks like you had one somewhere else, judging by
that dead wood in your wagon.”

“They showed up at my place after we left this morning. I
wired you about all they did Sunday.”

“One of the reasons we had to come. Men who shoot animals
that way, tend to be the most dangerous.”

“Today, they tied up our cook, yahooed our women, and held a
gun on my infant son.”

“Sounds like you were lucky to get back in time. This crew
has made a bad name for themselves. Two of the three in the buggy are wanted
for rape and murder from Kansas, Missouri, and now Texas.”

“My wife had a gun under the pillow.”

“Guess that explains the low aim on a couple of them.”

“Yeah, I finished them by shooting them in the head. My men
took care of the other two. If you want to charge us, we’ll stand trial for it.
But we didn’t have a choice and I’d personally like to do it all again, maybe
starting with those so-called deputies we have in jail,” Jackson said.

The yells and protests inside the jail grew silent and the
ranger grinned. “Reckon we’d better take this evidence and those birds back
with us to Austin. We’ve got a judge there who will make quick work of them.
What name do I have to wire any reward to?”

“Jackson Harper. I’ll share it with my men if there is one.”

“Yeah, as wide a swatch as these boys cut, it might amount
to a pretty penny. We’ll throw in Tate and the one in the saloon, since Rangers
can’t collect bounties.”

Jackson nodded and started walking up the street toward the
bank. “I’d like that, but while you’re here, there’s some shady dealings coming
through from the city council and the tax assessor. I’d like you to check it
out. I can’t believe it’s legal.”

“Might be legal, just not be right.” The Ranger told him in
undertones as they walked to the bank. “We might be able to convince them it’s
not legal, get it changed anyway. Just follow my lead. What’s the assessor’s
name?”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

In the small bedroom, Hattie helped Rubye into one of
Donna’s dresses, a simple one made up in ivory linen.

“It’s not right, my wearing Mrs. Harper’s dress.”

Hattie laughed. “Thanks to you, I’m Mrs. Harper now. Admit
it, I will be sewing until I die and I still won’t get all Donna’s clothes cut
down to fit me. This dress fits you perfectly, it looks lovely, and even if I
could get it altered, I would probably never wear it. You’re the bride today,
this is my and Donna’s gift to you.”

Rubye blushed, the high collared dress with its high puff
sleeves flattered and softened her tall, angular build. She looked young, with
her hair piled in a soft knot on top of her head, yellow rose buds tucked in
amid the dark strands.

Hattie stood on tiptoe and kissed her soft cheek. “You’re
still young and beautiful. God willing this time next year we’ll be watching
our babies play together and J.D. will be the big boy, toddling around between
them.”

“I’m afraid I’m too old.”

“How old?”

“Thirty-three. James is forty-two.”

Hattie grinned at her. “God’s blessings, let’s hurry before
you get one day older.”

Finally Rubye laughed. In the garden, the cowhands were
already gathering. James wore his dark church suit and a starched stiff white
shirt that resembled Jackson’s. His face glowed red. He was obviously fortified
by spirits.

Hattie took the baby from his grandfather and quickly
freshened him up as well. By the time she returned, the ‘I do’s’ were being
said. Smiling, she watched as Rubye and James exchanged smiles and then kissed
to the delight of everyone. She and Jackson hugged the beaming newlyweds, then
Hattie left the baby with Jackson as she brought out a perfectly glazed white
cake to add to the temporary table loaded with fried chicken, vegetables and
food the neighbors had brought.

Later, over slices of cake, she and Jackson broached the
arrangement that they had worked out that morning during their quiet pillow
talk.

“We need your help, Mr. and Mrs. Boyd. I have eighty-seven
head of cattle on my small ranch, you know, southeast of this ranch.”

Jackson took over, “We need someone living there, taking
care of the house and the animals. We would share the profit on all cattle
sold, in times of drought, share the water. We still need help, at the house,
during the day for the main meals. James you know I would still want to hire
you for trail drives and rodeos to be camp cook. Of course if either of the
gals were to have a baby, we would want you both to move back so we could help
each other. It’s your place as long as you want it.”

The new couple sat before them speechless. Before the tears
forming in their eyes could spill, Hattie laughed. “You’re good friends; we
know you’ll be good neighbors.”

Charles Dawson stared glumly at his son-in-law, his
grandson, and Harriett, his daughter’s replacement. Yesterday had been
exhausting for him, the blow-up with Irene, the aftermath of the shoot-out at
the ranch, then the visit by the Ranger and Jackson to inspect the property appraisals.
As he listened to them talk, he wondered if Jackson already knew that the
council was set to meet tonight, the agenda was the rewriting of the tax laws.
Rates would go back to previous levels. The ranger had as much as threatened
Charles, his implication that Dawson was behind all the problems in the region
might be pursued if the council didn’t act. The truth was, Charlie felt guilty
for all that had happened. He had let greed and the prospect of gaining
additional property lead him to fall for Tate’s offer of help. All the
violence, theft, and damaged lives were his fault.

In the series of hugs and kisses, J.D. leaned forward and
shared wet kisses with Rubye insisting she and James kiss his pony and little
cowboy as well.

Suddenly Charles felt his fear and resentment slip away as
he noticed the little cowboy doll. On the carefully pieced back of the cowboy’s
vest, appeared a vivid, embroidered bluebird. He rose and walked over to shake
hands with James and Rubye, leaning to kiss the blushing bride on the cheek.

“Jackson, you think you and Hattie could manage more acres
while Irene and I are back east.”

“Charlie, maybe, if you want to give us the same option we
just offered James and Rubye, fifty-fifty share in the profits. I’m sorry we
can’t manage the bank as well.”

“Hopefully, it won’t be for that long. Jim Smith will be in
charge of the bank while I’m away. But I’ll be back every three or four months
to check on the ranch, the bank and visit my grandson.

Jackson walked his father-in-law to his buggy. “You were
lucky Charlie; Tate’s dying left no one to point the finger at you or Irene.”

Charles scowled again then turned to stare up at the tall
man. “I think so, although I’ll always feel guilty for my part in things. My
real luck was when Donna chose you at church that day. She told me you were all
she’d ever need to be happy. I know you did that for her, made her happy.”