One Went to Denver and the Other Went Wrong (Code of the West) (2 page)

  Tap stood in the clearing until the men were out of sight. Gathering the guns, he hiked back down to the barn. His right shoulder ached as he pulled the saddle off Brownie and turned the horse back into the corral.

  “No huntin’ tonight, boy. At least, not for meat to hang.”

  He did chores around the yard with the long-range upper tang peep sight flipped up on his ’73 rifle until almost dark, keeping a constant eye on the trees behind the corral. Finally a chill slushy drizzle convinced him to retreat inside the cedar-sided ranch house.

  In the warmth of the rekindled fire, he examined his wounds as the cat stretched and yawned.

  “Sal, you slept through all the excitement. Look at this. That kick from Brownie is going to turn black and blue. And my shoulder is so sore I can’t lift my arm above my hat.”

  He slumped into a straight-back wooden chair next to the fire, stretching his long legs and rubbing his shoulder. Tap kept the Colt holstered at his side. He leaned his head back against the chair and took a deep breath.

  Lord, they keep comin’. There’s always another. Bounty hunters. Would-be gunmen. Drifters lookin’ for some fame. They don’t even know who I am, but still they find me. I can’t bring Pepper out here to a life like this. I’ve got to put the past aside before we try to settle down. There’s got to be a way.

  I’ll just ride up to McCurley’s tomorrow and have a little heart-to-heart talk. A woman’s got a right to something better than this, and I aim to provide it for her.

  I’ll go down there, and we’ll sit in the parlor, and I’ll explain it all nice and simple. We’ll just postpone things for a while, that’s all. It’s not like I’m callin’ the wedding off.

  I’ll settle this matter in Arizona.

  Pepper’s a good old gal. She knows about these kinds of things. She’s done a few things in the past that haunt her too. If there’s anyone on earth that can see this plainly, it’s Pepper.

  “You’re what?” Pepper fumed.

  “Shhh. There’s no reason for everyone at McCurley’s to hear.”

  “You’re backin’ out, aren’t you? You’ve been sittin’ up there at that big old ranch house plannin’ on dumpin’ me. You’ve been leadin’ me along. You ain’t nothin’ but a lousy, no account, driftin’—”

  “Pepper, listen to me. You’re not hearin' right. I just said—”

  “Listen to you? I heard all I care to hear, Mr. Tapadera Andrews. You’re goin’ back to Arizona to find some woman who was crazy enough to shoot her husband because of you.”

  “I never mentioned Arizona. I surely didn’t mention Rena.”

  “Don’t you yell at me.” 

  The guests at McCurley Hotel scooted around the door of the parlor.

  “That raven-haired man-killer is still on your mind, is she? Well, just go runnin’ back to her. See if I care.” Pepper burst out in a sob.

  “Run back to her? I don’t even know where she is. I don’t want to ever see her again. Just forget the whole thing. Pretend that I never brought it up. Let’s go ahead with the weddin’ as planned.”

  “Wedding?” Pepper wailed through the tears. “You think I want to marry you now?”

  Tap threw his hat into the green velvet chair. His brown eyes flashed like lightning. “Yes, I do.” He grabbed Pepper’s wrist. It felt warm and strong.

  “Why should I ever want to marry the likes of you?”

  Bob and Mrs. McCurley weaved through the crowd.

  “You’ll marry me because I’m crazy about you and I can’t stand the thought of living the rest of my life without you. And . . . and I love you. That’s why,” he shouted at the top of his voice.

  “You what?”

  He grabbed her by the shoulders. “I love you.”

  The room got very quiet.

  “Oh.” Pepper’s teary eyes began to dance. “Well, I love you too.”

  She threw her arms around his neck. The hardened muscles of his arms slipped around her waist. Closing her eyes, she pressed her lips against his. As always, they felt warm and wild and comfortable all at the same time.

  Applause caused Pepper to pull back and look around wide-eyed. “Haven’t you ever seen two people discussin’ their weddin’?”

  Bob McCurley cleared his throat. “We was just wonderin’ whether you two was going to shoot each other or kiss and make up. We was all rootin’ for the kissin’ part.”

  McCurley and the others meandered back to the dining room. Fresh cooking aromas filtered into the parlor.

  Tap touched her chin and dabbed her wet face. “Eh, maybe we should go outside for a little walk.”

  “It’s freezing out there. That drizzle will make me look like a wet goat. But maybe you’re right. Let me go up and get my wrap.”

  “I’ll wait for you on the porch.”

  “Cowboy, don't go ridin’ off on me.” She ran up the stairs without giving him a chance to reply.

  The front porch at the McCurley Hotel wrapped around three sides of the building, with stairs to the yard facing south. Heavy clouds blocked the setting sun and had drizzled icy droplets since right before daybreak.

  Tap held two lap quilts when Pepper met him on the porch with long woolen shawl and tan gloves.

  “Did you really want to walk?” he asked her.

  “It was your idea.”

  “I meant get some fresh air—”

  “And some privacy?”

  “Yeah. We could sit here on the bench. The house protects from a little of the drift.”

  Tap laid one quilt across the damp bench and motioned for Pepper to sit down. He spread the other over their laps.

  “Pepper, I’m sorry for yelling in there. You had every right to be upset. It’s just that I—”

  “No. It was my fault. I lost control and I—”

  “Any woman would have done the same. I know I’m not good at being subtle. I just blurt out things without thinkin’ and I—”

  “No. No, really. If I would have given you a chance to—”

  “Pepper, would you please stop interrupting so I can get on with the apology. Our lips will freeze shut before we get anything talked out.”

  Her troubled eyes silenced him.

  Good work, Andrews. Lord, I just don’t know how to talk to women right. What am I supposed to do now? Apologize for the way I’m apologizing? Maybe some men are meant to stay single.

  Slowly a sweet smile spread across Pepper’s face. She leaned over and pressed her lips against Tap’s. Then she quickly pulled back.

  But,Lord, I’m not one of those men.

  “What was that for?” he stammered.

  “You're afraid your lips will freeze. I was merely trying to prevent that from happening.”

  “Oh. I just wanted to talk this thing out with you. I worry I’ll say something wrong again. But if you’ll just bear with me and let me ramble, maybe it will all make sense by the time I’m through.”

  “All right, Mr. Andrews. That sounds fair enough. And then when you’re through, you have to sit here and listen to me.”

  “That’s a deal.”

  “You will let me know if your lips start to freeze shut again?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I most definitely will.”

  “Okay, cowboy, start all over. Tell me why it is you think we should postpone the weddin’ until next spring.”

  “Pepper, ever since I met you I’ve been tryin’ to be a better person. You know that. But you also know it’s not easy when you got a past that keeps huntin’ you down.”

  “Is it that trouble in Arizona botherin’ you?”

  Tap stretched his right arm softly across Pepper’s shoulders. “That’s the big part. You know that all of this faith stuff is new to me. I don’t know much about what God wants out of me. But there’s one thing for sure. I’ve got to do what’s right. I was convicted in a court of law and escaped from a territorial prison. I’ve got to settle that up somehow before I go makin’ plans for the rest of my life.”

  “But you didn’t kill that man. You were innocent.”

  “The jury saw it different. Maybe if I present my case to the territorial governor or something. I don’t know, Pepper, but it nags at me. Day and night it turns over in my mind. Then some ragtag bounty men like this Lane bunch show up to remind me that I’m still on the dodge.”

  Pepper slipped her gloved fingers into his. “But you can’t go ridin’ down to Arizona. They’ll lock you back in Yuma before you ever see the governor or anyone else.”

  “Yeah, they’ll either do that or hang me.”

  “That’s exactly why you’ve got to stay out of Arizona. I don’t think the Lord wants you to serve time in jail for a crime you didn’t commit.”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time a man had to do that. Joseph. In the Bible.”

  “But that was different somehow. Wasn’t it?”

  “Maybe.” Tap sighed.

  They both sat silent in the shadows.

  Pepper dropped her hand back on top of the lap quilt. "I’ll go with you.”

  “No. You can’t.”

  “If you’re going to jail, at least I can live near you. Come visit you.”

  “It could be dangerous. They’ll likely have a dead or alive reward on my head.”

  “It doesn’t matter to me. The day they kill you will be the day my heart dies. Besides, it wouldn’t be fair to sit here and wonder what’s happened to you.”

  Tap glanced at her green eyes. Like a magnet, they always drew him. “But I can’t drag you down there. It’s a violent land. I’d be worried about you night and day.”

  “It’s not exactly peaceful around here. Tap, if I told you that I had some dangerous past business to take care of, say, up in Idaho, and I might not be back for several months or even years, and I insisted upon going up there by myself, would you let me go alone?”

  “Of course not. But you’re a woman. You could get hurt and .
 . . ”

  “And what?”

  “I’d be so worried sick about you, I wouldn’t be worth two cents.”

  “And that’s exactly how I’d be if you go to Arizona without me.”

  Tap slipped his hand back into hers. “You’re right. If I go to Arizona, you’re coming with me.”

  “If? You have doubts about it?”

  “I never claimed I was goin’ for sure. I just want to see if I can get this thing cleared up.”

  “So what is your plan?”

  He looked up and held out his free hand. “Snowflakes.” He turned the collar of his coat up and snuggled closer to Pepper. “You want to go in?”

  “Not yet. You gettin’ cold?”

  “Only my lips.”

  Pepper’s lips felt soft and warm as they brushed against his. “Now, cowboy, what kind of plan do you have?”

  Tap struggled to re-gather his thoughts. “I thought I’d try to talk to Stuart Brannon. He’s got a lot of pull down there. Maybe we could sit down with the governor together.”

  “Brannon? I thought he was the one who brought you in.”

  “Yeah, but he’s about the only human I know personally that will give a man an honest shake. He knows I’m innocent, I think.”

  “So we’re goin’ to ride down to Arizona and take our chances?”

  “Nope.”

  “But I thought you said—”

  “I figure on writin’ Brannon a letter to see if we can meet, like in Utah or Nevada, and discuss the matter.”

  “What’s to keep him from bushwhackin’ you and takin’ you back to Arizona for the reward money?”

  “Not Brannon. He won’t do that sort of thing for money. And if he gives you his word . . . He’s the sort of man who could walk into any bank in the territory and borrow every last dollar in the safe just on his word. If he agreed to sit down and talk, I wouldn’t have to wonder.”

  “If all you’re goin’ to do is write a letter, why did we have this big argument? You told me you had to go someplace, be gone for weeks and weeks.”

  “I do, sort of. I’ve got a friend in Denver. You ever heard of Wade Eagleman?”

  “No. Is he a shootist?”

  “Nope. He’s an attorney. Wade and I go way back. We came up the trail together one spring with Charlie Goodnight. Wade’s about two-thirds Comanche and one of the best lawyers in the state. I’ll slip into Denver and look up Wade. He can send Brannon a telegraph. We’ll make it all legal-like.”

  “So, you want to take a trip to Denver to see some attorney? Tap Andrews, if you had been up front about that in the first place, there wouldn’t have been a fuss.”

  “I figured I might just stay in Denver until Wade gets word back. Maybe it would mean ridin’ down to Arizona. Maybe not. That’s why I figured we’d need to put the weddin’ on the shelf until later. But if you’re goin’ with me, we could always—”

  “Goin’ with you?”

  “Sure, you talked me into lettin’ you come along.”

  She sat straight up and pulled back from Tap. “I ain’t goin’ to Denver. I thought you were talkin’ about Arizona.”

  “What? We’ve been through all that. You said—”

  “I never agreed to go to Denver. There’s no way you’re gettin’ me to Denver.”

  “But, you just told me that—”