Given the disappointment of Willow Junction’s less-than-cooperative marshal, the local medicine man turned out much better than I had any right to expect. Far too many of the bone poppers who made their stumbling way to obscure parts of the West drank to excess as a result of being plagued by an unknowable past on the killing fields of Mr. Lincoln’s tragic war on the South. Not this one. Gangly, thin as a rail, and nervous in the extreme, Puckett appeared precisely what any person in need would hope for in a pill-wrangling cut-’em-up.
We explained the dreadful circumstances of our appearance. The doc nodded as though he recognized the problem immediately. Placed a skinny arm around the devastated woman’s shoulders and guided her to a leather-covered couch in one corner of his office. Long, spiderlike fingers caressed her trembling shoulder as he gently assisted the lady into a reclining position.
“Appears she has involuntarily descended into a profound state of shock,” he said. “Her troubled mind, overwhelmed by the brutal circumstances you’ve recently described, has simply taken a much-needed rest. And will most likely lie dormant until coaxed into properly functioning again.”
“I have no idea what that all means, Dr. Puckett. What we have to know is, can you help her?” Dianna’s question contained more than a bit of concerned desperation.
“Oh, yes.” He turned and gently patted Dianna’s shoulder. “You must not feel compelled to worry yourself overly much, my dear. I’ll keep her warm. Prop her feet up. See she gets plenty of liquids and attentive care. With any luck at all, your friend should start coming around in a matter of hours, days perhaps, weeks at the outside.”
“That’s most encouraging, Doctor,” I offered.
He scratched his head for a second, then added, “Yes, but you should also be painfully aware that in some instances these things do take time.”
“How much time?” Dianna asked.
“Well, I’ve seen many past examples of trauma to the wounded mind that refused treatment. ’Course that was during the War of Yankee Oppression—a time of unparalleled human destruction and murderous slaughter. Still, even doctors with considerable training can’t accurately foretell the exact outcome for certain. I’d venture an educated guess, though, and say the lady should recover, and be made whole again, in pretty short order.”
After seeing to our animals, Dianna and I hit the street in search of a hotel room. We strolled along the boardwalk and she said, “The more I think on it, a night in a real bed would be most agreeable—a skin-singeing bath even more so.”
I flicked a furtive glance in the dazzling girl’s direction. The overpowering thought of her completely naked body engulfed my every conscious thought.
Of course, we took separate rooms at the Lone Star Hotel and Boarding House located a block away from the jail and across Front Street. Had hoped Dianna’s room would be nearer mine, but the desk clerk claimed only limited vacancies at the time. She set up residence near the stairway landing on the second floor, while I had to throw my bedroll in a room several doors farther down the hall. After some consideration, I came to feel that the separation amounted to nothing more than a minor irritation. Wished later I’d thought a bit more on the subject.
Two days after our arrival, Mrs. Wainwright’s situation had improved enough that we decided to continue on to Uvalde and points south come the following morning. Had lunch in the hotel with Dianna that afternoon. Lady implored me to bathe myself and shave for a special evening she had planned. Flattered by the mysterious request, I agreed to her terms.
’Course all kinds of wicked thoughts flew through my heaving mind. While our relationship had started out well when we first met, her son’s brutal death, and the events surrounding the chase, had thrown water on those initial embers of passion. Couldn’t imagine what she intended.
Once Dianna had tended to her twa-let that evening, and freshened herself to the utmost in man-slaying appearance, she tapped on my door. When I opened it, she took my arm and said, “Come along, Ranger Dodge. I’ve discovered the location of a well-recommended restaurant and would like to buy you dinner.”
My God, but she was a glorious thing to look upon. Her dusky beauty entranced me in a way that made it hard to breathe, much less concentrate. From somewhere amidst the load she’d placed on our mule, a flattering, bone-colored dress, accented by a navy-blue shawl trimmed in red, had magically appeared. As my dear ole daddy liked to say, “Lucius, ’at ’ere gal is purdyer’n a fresh-painted wagon.”
Did my level best to act surprised and noble. Wasn’t difficult. “You needn’t do that, Mrs. Savage. I’d be most happy to stand for the two of us to have a good meal.”
She looped her arm through mine and pulled me into the hall. “You will do no such thing. Come along now. A grand evening awaits Willow Junction’s hungry sojourners at Jewel’s Café.”
Not often you found a place like Jewel’s in the wilds of Texas back in them days. Block or so down from the hotel, the completely out-of-place but elegant restaurant sported starched white tablecloths, vases of handpicked wildflowers, and an actual printed menu that came to the table in a slender, leather-bound jacket.
No blackboard scribblin’s in that joint. No sir-ree bob, sir. Hand-lettered in beautifully done script, the heavy vellum bill of fare was clean, crisp, and appeared to change every day. My crude upbringing had me feeling like a rooster at a convention for a pack of wolves.
A smartly dressed waiter, who sported a black bow tie and brocaded silk vest, led the way to a choice table in the farthest corner. Man made quite a production of lighting the candle for us, and poured long-stemmed goblets of red wine. Pointed out his recommendations from the menu, smiled, snapped his polished heels together, then retreated while we made our decisions. Almost made a rough-as-a-cob cowboy like me feel important.
“Well, now, you have surely picked a winner, Mrs. Savage. Can’t remember the last time I ate in a place with quite so much snoot value. Perhaps I should have dressed a bit better,” I said as we tapped our crystal beakers against one another.
She ignored my self-deprecation, smiled, sipped at her wine, then said, “Most fortunate to find such an amazing establishment, aren’t we, Mr. Dodge?”
“Indeed we are.”
She leaned forward and spoke in a lowered voice as though intent on telling me a secret. “Wanted you to know how much I appreciate all the help and considerate understanding you’ve imparted on me, Mr. Dodge. Decided this meal was the best way to demonstrate my deep feelings on the subject.”
“Wish you’d call me, Lucius, Mrs. Savage. I do tend to get somewhat discombobulated when you refer to me as though my long-dead father has somehow come back to life and taken a place in the shadows behind me.”
Sounded like a schoolteacher when she said, “As you are surely well aware, sir, good manners and the conventions of the day require strict behavior between unmarried adults while in public, Mr. Dodge.”
“Well, you’re absolutely right, of course. But why don’t we make a pact right here and now. In the glow of Jewel’s candlelight, or whenever we’re not in the company of others, you call me Lucius, and I’ll call you Dianna. How does that strike you, Mrs. Savage?”
She smiled. “Perfect, Lucius.” She smiled and held her crystal glass out to be struck again.
From that moment on, our relationship changed dramatically and, in my opinion, for the better. For the first time since we’d met, the practice of forced societal formality between us fell away. She became almost girlish in demeanor. And at some point during the course of that astonishing evening, the realization of my simmering attraction to Dianna Savage dropped on me like a Butterfield stage coach. The longer the evening progressed, the more difficult it became for me to concentrate on my meal.
Although probably not on a par with the best offerings of the finer joints in New Orleans, I’m sure, the food at Jewel’s ranked several rungs above anything else I’d had in some time past. The main course consisted of fist-sized medallions of beef, bird, and venison that swam in individual pools of mouth-watering sauces. Huge, almost inhuman, slices of buttermilk pie served as dessert. And when we’d finished, the waiter brought the check to the table with a rose, as he said, “For the lady.”
Dianna insisted on a promenade around town before we returned to our rooms. She took my arm again. I could feel the warmth of her through my shirt, and found the stunning woman’s perfume damned near overpowering. More than once that evening I felt light-headed. As though no longer attached to this earth.
We strolled from one end of Willow Junction’s six-block-long Main Street to the other like young lovers. The abbreviated trip lasted barely fifteen minutes. Under an enormous moon, aided by oil lamps and candlelight from behind glass windows in the shops, saloons, and mercantile businesses, everything about our short walk felt right and gloriously comfortable. Finally we made our way up the stairs to her room, and she appeared reluctant to see our evening come to an end.
Upon arrival at her door she turned, squeezed my arm, leaned forward, molded her body to mine, and pressed her lips against my cheek. Felt her warm, scented breath on my ear. She whispered, “I have not forgotten our first evening together. Memories of that initial meeting are with me at every waking moment. Being near you like this imparts the most fervent upheaval in my anxious heart. Soon. Not now, but soon, dear Lucius.”
And with that, the most beautiful woman I’d ever known disappeared into the deeper darkness of her chamber. Left me in the rude hallway to contemplate the exhilarating aroma of her perfume. Stood in the intoxicating cloud that came from her body as it swirled around me. Heard the distinctly final sound of the lock as it clicked into place.
God Almighty, felt like I would explode right on the spot. Never thought any woman could have such a profoundly pleasant impact on me. Stumbled to my empty room, and even emptier bed, in a dense fog of unfulfilled desire.
9
“. . . MAN’S KNOWN AS A COLD-BLOODED KILLER . . .”
FELL INTO MY narrow, empty bed that fateful night. Lay atop the sheets and couldn’t get thoughts of Dianna’s passionate, sensuous body pressed against me out of my mind. I had not allowed any woman to have such a profound impact on me since the day I watched Martye McKee ride out of my life and away from the murderous horrors of Sweetwater and the Nightshade clan. Came to the undeniable conclusion that my total discomfort was exactly what the beautiful Mrs. Savage most probably had in mind for me from the start of our splendid evening at Jewel’s Café.
Tossed and turned like a bullfrog in a red-hot frying pan. Can’t say with any certainty how much time passed before my eyes finally closed. Hotel and street settled down. The entire world finally got quiet. Sleep crept upon me like a nimble-footed thief carrying a sledgehammer.
Middle of the night, awoke to the sound of a gentle, almost unnoticeable, tapping at my door. An appeal delivered with such hesitation, I barely heard it. Snatched the rough portal open, and Dianna fell into my waiting arms.
A trembling hand caressed my cheek and she whispered, “Changed my mind, dear Lucius. It’s a woman’s privilege, you know. Decided I couldn’t wait any longer.”
Then, as God is my witness, that bold and beautiful girl locked liquid lips to mine and damned near kissed me inside out. Thought I would burst into scorching flame and be completely consumed right there in the doorway.
Lifted her up in one quick, catlike movement. Pushed the door closed with my foot and carried her to my bed. Tender, inviting arms draped around my neck as we tasted each other again. The heady flavor of her open mouth proved as intoxicating as any powerful liquor. Fingers of fire danced across my shoulders, neck, and around my ears.
Laid her atop a tangled mass of sheets. In a flurry of heated excitement and pent-up lust, we stripped each other naked. A thin sheen covered our overheated bodies. She glittered and glowed in a hazy obscurity provided by the half-light that stole into my window from an enormous moon.
Agile fingers seared a flaming path down my belly and caressed the core of me right there in the semidarkness. Sent me into a shuddering ecstasy unlike anything I’d ever experienced in my entire life.
A whippoorwill, somewhere outside my open window, sang in the shadows as we made love. Immersed in the sweet, violent warmth of loosed passion and vivid arousal, I plunged into her. Immediately lost myself in the uncontrollable inferno. No doubt about it, all those raw feelings and untamed emotions were sparked by Dianna’s astonishing beauty the moment we first met.
As I choose to remember our night of unfettered ardor, the firestorm of passionately meshed bodies, and quietly murmured words of affection in my mind, the lovemaking lasted for hours. At some point, spent and exhausted, I must have fallen asleep—perhaps for only a minute.
When I jerked myself awake again, she’d vanished. Gone as though she’d never been there. Nothing left but the sweet, heady odor of musk that lingered on me and my damp, rumpled bedclothes. Came to wonder if the whole encounter had been nothing more than a wildly pleasant fantasy—an outrageous, vividly realized dream. Stared at the blank ceiling till fatigue came and claimed me again.
Early the next morning, the sound of rough knuckles pounded on my door and snatched me away from astonishing dreams. Dreams I sometimes still have this very day. Raspy voice from the hallway called out, “Ranger Dodge? Are you there, sir? Ranger Dodge, are you awake, sir?”
Made my muddled-headed, bleary-eyed way to the knob and jerked the portal open. Blockheaded feller, who looked like he’d made every effort possible to appear like Marshal Matthews’s exact duplicate, stood in the hallway. His deputy’s badge was pinned on the wrong side of a greasy leather vest. The faded bib-front shirt beneath smelled from what gave every appearance of months of accumulated sweat, dirt, and grime-impregnated grease.