Cotton’s Inferno (13 page)

Chapter 24

J
ohnny and Rachael were sitting on a long bench on the porch in front of the jail. The Las Cruces sheriff peeked out and said, “You two doin' all right?”

“We sure are, Sheriff, thanks to your kindness,” Johnny said, with Rachael nodding her agreement.

“Doc says you should be able to travel by tomorrow. Where do you figure on headin'?”

“Ain't given it much thought. I've been so anxious about Rachael's comin' near to death, I hadn't figured out what our next move oughta be.” He looked over at Rachael and saw nothing but unanswered questions as well.

“I wouldn't doubt but what a nice young couple like you could find employment right here in Las Cruces. Good little town. Peaceable, too. Well, it was until that feller what came though two weeks ago, obviously lookin' for trouble, and upset the applecart.”

“What kinda trouble, Sheriff?” Johnny asked, with a curious frown.

“The worst kind. Pure visciousness. Clubbed a man senseless for bumping into him.”

“That's terrible. Don't seem a little bump would push a man to do no beatin'.”

“That's the way I saw it, too. The man tore outta town with his tail feathers ablaze. I got up a posse, but nothin' come of it. Lost his trail 'bout fifteen miles west of here. Looked like he might be headed for Silver City, but when I telegraphed the sheriff over there, he said he hadn't seen any such individual. Said he'd let me know if he did, though.”

“So what did this feller look like?” Johnny asked, his curiosity piqued by the sheriff's story.

“Tall, rangy man with a black duster, flat-brimmed hat, carryin' one of them Smith & Wesson Schofields. Wore a red scarf. Seemed a bit short on patience.”

“Didn't nobody get a name?” Johnny's eyes narrowed at the vague description.

“Well, now that you remind me, some of those nearby when our citizen was struck by this feller said it appeared they had words before Mr. Black Duster drew his gun and beat the man with the barrel.”

“But nobody heard anything?”

“One lady said the man was sayin' somethin' about a fish just before his eyes jus' rolled back in his head and he went unconscious.”

“A fish?”

“Yep. Didn't say nothin' after that.”

Johnny's jaw tightened and he began to chew his lower lip. He looked up from beneath a serious scowl.

“Could the man have said, ‘Carp'?”

“Why, er, yes. I do believe that's what the lady said. How'd you know that?”

“'Cause that's the man I'm set on killin' myself.”

* * *

“But you can't leave me here all by myself, Johnny. What would I do without you?” Rachael said. “Please, don't go.”

“I have to. Don't you see, Rachael, that's the man that murdered a whole town, small as it was? Those folks didn't deserve to die the awful way they did. But, I tell you, Carp Varner don't deserve to
live
neither.”

“The way the sheriff described that Carp Varner, it
for sure
is the same man.”

“Well, uh, yeah, I'm sure it was. I
was
on his trail when I come upon you and your cabin.”

“Then, after what he did to me, don't I have just as much right to seek vengeance as you do?”

“I, well, I suppose you do, but . . .”

“But nothin'. I'm comin' with you and that's that.” Rachael took a firm stance with both feet apart and her arms crossed. She stuck her chin out like she was daring him to say no.

He was trying to hold his ground and not give an inch on his decision to go it alone. But what she'd said did, in a strange way, make sense. Besides, if she could see Varner, and identify him as a thief, then his case against the man would be even stronger.
Maybe it would be best if she came along. Besides, I sure have gotten used to havin' her company.
His expression softened. She knew she had won him over even before he spoke.

“Oh, shucks, all right. We'll go together. But you got to promise you'll not get in the way when I fix my sights on him. Promise?” He wasn't prepared for her answer.

She threw her arms around him and planted a kiss squarely on his quivering mouth.

“Thank you, Johnny, thank you, thank you!” she said as she pulled away. She was all smiles as she scurried back inside the jail.

“Wh-where're you goin'?” he said, puzzled by her sudden retreat. He had been silently hoping she'd want to shower him with even
more
thanks.

“I'm goin' to gather up our belongin's so we can be on our way.”

“The doctor said you could travel tomorrow, not today. He wants one more look at your arm to make sure it hasn't begun to fester. Please. There'll be time to find Varner, but we can't travel if you start havin' problems with them stitches or go to bleedin'.” Johnny had taken on a decidedly worried demeanor. Now that he'd given his word she could go, he knew he'd have to rein her in. Her enthusiasm for catching the murderous varmint that burned his town seemed to have grown even stronger than his. He didn't look forward to facing a professional gunslinger with nothing more than his one six-shooter, and his doubts were growing stronger now that he was faced with the prospect that Rachael could maybe get hurt in the process. He wasn't sure but what his acquiescence to her going along had been a little hasty. He sure liked that kiss, but was it enough to ward off these new doubts?

“Oh, all right. We can wait. But I'm feelin' much better since the doctor fixed my arm. I'll bet even you can tell that, can't you?” Rachael asked, teasing him. She threw him a look that nearly melted his resolve. Whatever resolve he had left, anyway.

“Yeah, I agree you are much more chipper than when we wandered in here. But that don't make being hasty a good idea. We're stayin' until the doc says you can go. And that's final.”

She slowly sashayed up to him and looked up with big, brown, innocent eyes. “Whatever you say, Johnny.” She took his arm and began tugging him along.

“Wh-where are we goin'?”

“I thought a nice walk would do us both good. We can look in all the windows and maybe even stop in for a sarsaparilla, if, that is, you have enough money.”

“I, uh, reckon I got enough left for one,” he said, his voice barely above a squeak.

Chapter 25

M
elody, damned if that temper isn't goin' to get you even more problems. It don't make no difference how you feel about Cotton; he's askin' the right questions, and without your cooperation, you could well never see a penny of your money back. And the sooner you get off your high horse, the sooner we can get to findin' whoever stole it from Pick after killin' him,” Jack said, after shutting the door to her bedroom. She was sitting with her arms crossed on the edge of the bed, her face so red with anger he thought she might combust. Jack figured he could wait her out. Although, at the moment, she didn't seem inclined to give him the time of day. Hearing no response, he turned and stormed out the door, letting it slam behind him. “
Bitch!
” he muttered to himself as he went down the stairs, taking them three at a time.

“I heard that!” she screamed after him.

Before going back to the jail, Jack figured just one brandy would help settle his nerves. His situation with Melody hadn't improved one bit, and now Cotton was probably ready to give up on helping get Melody's money back. If that were the case, Jack knew damned well he'd be the big loser in the whole mess. He downed the brandy and told Arlo to pour another. He needed something strong enough to bolster his courage before facing the sheriff. When he did finally get to the jail, Cotton was just stepping out the door. Jack was a tad wobbly by then, so he grabbed for the porch post.

“Jack, I see you've been leanin' on ol' Mr. Brandy to help with your woman problem. I suspect I would have done the same thing in your shoes. Go inside and sleep it off. I'm going out to the Wagner ranch to see Emily. I need the gentle hand of a female that
isn't
insane. I'll be back in the mornin' to return your horse.”

That wasn't exactly what Jack had hoped to hear from the sheriff, but it would do. He gave Cotton a nod and went inside to occupy one of the cots in a jail cell. First, he sat on the edge of the cot in a liquor-induced haze, contemplating his next move with Melody. His choices were limited. He was fully aware that if prompted, Cotton would eagerly chew him out for even keeping company with a whore. But his life wasn't Cotton's life. In matters of the heart, they were totally different.

He eased back with his hands behind his head. He stared at the ceiling. No ideas were forthcoming. Then, because of nothing he could figure, his thoughts turned to Pick Wheeler's dead body lying in the dirt. For some reason, he began attempting to piece together the old miner's last moments. He envisioned Pick riding one mule and leading the other. He would have had his hands full of reins and lead rope. Even if he did carry a smoke wagon, he would have had little time to use it if someone came up on him suddenly. But he didn't have a revolver. Never had been known to even own one. The only weapon he had was that old ten-gauge shotgun. And he kept that strapped down to the burro's pack.

Suddenly Jack sat straight up.
Where was the shotgun? Cotton said he looked around for it and saw nothing. Henry said he hadn't seen any evidence of anything lying around the brush. No money. And for damned sure, no shotgun. Since it was obvious that whoever killed Pick also took his shotgun, we need a way to smoke the varmint out. What if we posted a reward? If someone comes in with it expectin' to make a few extra dollars, it'd likely be the one who dusted the old goat.
Just like settin' a mousetrap.
At the moment his mind was too muddled to know whether Cotton would go for the reward part, but he knew he had to get folks to keep a lookout.

He lay back, satisfied that he'd come up with a logical plan, and was soon asleep.

* * *

Cotton rode into the yard in front of the Wagner ranch house right at sundown. Emily came out wiping her hands on her apron. She smiled at him with the warmth of an expectant wife, waiting for her man to come home from a hard day on the range. Except that she and Cotton weren't married, and he had let it be known that riding the range with a bunch of dirty, smelly cattle was the last thing he wanted out of life.

“Howdy, stranger. Just passin' through?” she said.

“Nope. Thought maybe I'd stay overnight while a certain lovely lady beguiles me with her most recent adventures.”

“Well, step down off of that saddle and we'll see if we can't come up with an adventure or two that you won't soon forget.” Her smile aroused a passion in him that only it could.

“Don't mind if I do. Uh, what's that I smell comin' from the open window?”

“Are you talking about the apple pie or the fresh bread? Coffee? Sizzling steak?”

“I reckon all of 'em,” he said. “Hard to separate all them great smells when the only thing to hit a man's stomach since early this mornin' was a hunk of gristle masquradin' as beef.”

“Poor soul. You better come up here and give me a kiss or there won't be anything left in there. The men are already at the table.”

He leapt off the mare and wrapped the reins around a rail just in time to catch her before she could slip inside the door, and he left her giggling and trying to keep from tripping on the sill.

* * *

After dinner, Emily and Cotton sat on the couch in the living room. He had a cup of coffee in his hand, and she was studying a piece of needlepoint she'd been working on. It was a depiction of the mountains behind her ranch house, the very thing she saw each morning as she stood at the back window while the coffee was brewing. Orange and yellow threads intermingled with dark blues and deep greens depicting the way the sun hit the peaks early of a morning. She was humming softly. He was fidgeting.

Without looking up, she said, “Cotton, what's got you tied in a knot?”

“You can tell, huh?”

“Oh, yeah. I can tell when you're upset, worried, bothered, angry and . . .”

“I'm not surprised. I never have been real good at hiding my feelin's, have I?”

“Nope.”

“Then how come it took so long for you to know I love you?”

“I knew the first time we met. Of course, Otis was still alive then, and any such revelation would have been totally improper. But I knew, just the same.”

“Well, I'll be damned. Women sure are a puzzlement.” He scratched his head and then finger-combed his hair back in place.

She smiled and put the needlepoint in her lap. She stood up, smoothed her skirt, and placed the wooden hoop that contained her artistic endeavor on a table. She motioned for Cotton.

“I'm very, very tired. It's been a long day. So I'm going to bed. If you'd like, you may come tuck me in,” she said teasingly.

“Would it be proper?” he said.

“Not on your life.”

“Then I'm your man,” he said, as he arose from his plush couch and strode across the room to take her in his arms and escort her into the bedroom.

* * *

At breakfast, Emily was humming to herself as she scurried around pouring coffee for the hands and slicing strips of bacon for frying. She looked over at Cotton, who was staring out the window, lost in a daze.

“My, you
are
the pensive one this morning, Cotton.”

“Not real sure what that means, but I'll admit I have come upon a bit of a puzzlement.”

“Am I going to have to drag it out of you?”

“Well, I guess you could say I have a couple things on my mind that don't seem to add up no matter which way I look at them. The first, of course, is finding whoever murdered ol' Pick Wheeler and stole the money he chiseled Melody Wakefield out of. And then there's this new feller in town wantin' to take over the gunsmithin' business from the recently deceased Mr. Burnside. Trouble is, while we sorely need a gunsmith, I've got a passel of reservations about this Carp Varner. And so far, I've not gotten very far with solvin' either problem.”

“You've always had a good head for knowing if a soul is living in the wrong column of right and wrong. You read a man better'n anyone I know. As for who killed a crook, maybe that's not as important right now.”

“Hmm. You could be right. But I can't seem to make up my mind whether Varner is suspicious or if it's just that he rubs me a tad raw.”

“You've known men like that before. How'd it all turn out when you compare it to what you felt on first impression?”

“I get your drift. I'll cogitate on it.” He gulped the last of his coffee and left.