Authors: Pamela Morsi
}"Believe so," Luther answered.
}"Well, it was nice to meet you, Miss Newspaper Gal," he said, following them outside to the dimness of the roadway.
}Tulsa May smiled at him. "I'll keep in mind what you told me."
}"You do that and I'll be looking to dance with you again real soon."
}"You seem in a mighty big hurry, Briggs."
}The voice was Blue Turley's. He'd come up behind them, his arms folded before his chest belligerently, his tone argumentative and his voice overly loud. "A fella would think you was running scared."
}Luther gave Turley a long look, but didn't bother to speak. With a nod to Elm, who'd stepped back slightly—sensing trouble between the two men— Luther continued to escort Tulsa May away from the door.
}But Blue followed them. "I ain't heard that you's a coward, but I suspect it could be so."
}Luther ignored him.
}Emma Dix appeared at Blue's side. Tulsa May was grateful; surely Emma could calm the cowboy down. It was with stunned disbelief a minute later that she realized the woman was urging him on.
}"Hey, yellowbelly," Turley called as he followed them out into the yard. "If you're gonna run from me, you'd better run faster or farther than you are now."
}The music inside the roadhouse had stopped. The word "fight" had quickly circulated through the floor and the dancers began flocking out through the door, anxious to catch a glimpse.
}As the crowd gathered, it became clear that Tulsa May and Luther were not going to be able to make a discreet retreat.
}"Get in the Runabout," Luther said calmly.
}"What's the matter with him?"
}"He's just another cowboy looking for trouble. Now wait for me in the Runabout."
}After making sure that Tulsa May was following his direction, Luther turned back to Turley. "I've no interest in getting into a fight."
}Blue grinned. "I 'magine not," he said loudly enough for the crowd to hear. "Afraid you'll get that pretty face of yours busted up?"
}"I'll not fight you over Emma, Turley," he said quietly. "That's all over and she knows it. There's no need to fight."
}"Fight over Emma!" Turley's loud exclamation was followed by a hearty laugh. "There ain't no fight over Emma, pretty boy. I already won her."
}"Then there is no cause to fight."
}"What about that little Carrot of yours?" he said, pointing to Tulsa May seated nervously in the Runabout.
}"Miss Bruder is none of your concern," Luther said.
}Turley grinned. "Nope, not yet, she ain't. She 'pears to be your property all right. But I been thinking. There's something about that gal I've been wondering about for some time. I was hoping you'd have the answer."
}"What is that?"
}Turley leaned forward as if realizing the coarseness of what he was about to say, and spoke just above a whisper. But Luther clearly heard the words. "Is the fuzz underneath her skirts as orange as that on her head?"
}Turley grinned. Luther smashed his fist right into that greasy smile. The blow loosened Turley's front teeth and cut Luther's knuckles. Although both men had clearly felt the blow, neither hesitated. Turley rebounded with a punch to the side of Luther's face. Luther brought his swing lower, nearly doubling the cowboy in half as the wind whooshed out of him.
}Tulsa May screamed in horror at the very first blow. She was too far away to hear the argument, but she'd never expected Luther to start slugging.
}The crowd quickly started cheering for one or the other and betting on the outcome. Tulsa May slipped down from her safe perch on the Runabout and hurried forward. She was determined to put a stop to the whole thing. How infantile and ridiculous, she thought. They are fighting like a couple of schoolboys!
}As Tulsa May approached the scuffle, Luther caught sight of her. He turned his head to warn her off, but the words never came out.
}Turley, taking advantage, slugged him dead-on. Luther went down like a felled oak.
}"Oh!" Tulsa May's initial shock quickly turned to anger. With Luther hurt and bleeding on the ground, all her virtuous thoughts about peaceful compromise were forgotten. Howling like a banshee and her teeth bared, she jumped on Turley's back and began pummeling him on the head.
}Caught off guard and already weakened, the cowboy fell to the dirt. Tulsa May went with him, scratching, biting, and slugging.
}Only a minute later she was forcefully pulled from a loudly complaining Turley's back. She struggled against the arms that held her.
}"Hold up there, Newspaper Gal," she heard Elm Tripten admonish her. "You gonna embarrass your fella if you don't let him fight on his own."
}Glancing toward Luther, she saw that he'd now risen to his feet, and although he was breathing heavily, he was waiting patiently for Turley to stand up also.
}The cowboy did, only a minute later, and the two began senselessly pounding each other once more. Blood was running down Luther's face and he swayed unsteadily on his feet. Turley looked better and stronger and was the veteran of more barroom brawls. But Luther was coldly angry. Turley deserved a beating and he wanted to be the one to give it to him.
}The fight continued.
}Tulsa May was horrified at what she saw, but she couldn't turn her face away. She found herself gritting her teeth and jerking her arms as if she could add force to Luther's blows.
}After Luther managed to score several clear hits on Turley, the cowboy realized that he was losing the advantage. With a fierce growl, Turley threw himself at Luther. They fell to the ground. Over and over they rolled across the dusty ground, wrestling now instead of punching, equally matched in age, strength, and determination.
}The bets were flying among the onlookers. The odds had now moved to even money. Tulsa May struggled slightly in Elm's grasp.
}Dust clung to the blood and sweat on the men's faces. Teeth bared and muscles straining, each tried to overpower the other with strength of will as well as flesh and bone.
}In the end, it was nature that determined the fight. It was simply bad luck that in one move when Luther found himself underneath Turley, his head rested on a wide thick oak-tree root. Turley immediately realized his advantage and began pounding Luther's head into the unyielding wood.
}On the second or third blow, Luther loosened his grasp and his eyes rolled back in his head. Tulsa May screamed. Elm let her go and raced ahead of her.
}"That's it now," the big man said as he pulled Turley from the limp form on the ground.
}Turley struggled against Elm's grip.
}"That's enough!" Elm shouted angrily. "You've knocked him out already. I'm not about to let you kill him."
}Slowly regaining his composure, Turley stood over his victim, breathing heavily and staring.
}Tulsa May was on her knees beside Luther. "Bring me some water," she called out to anybody within hearing distance.
}Nobody moved as she gingerly began exploring the wound on the back of Luther's head. It was bleeding. That was a good sign.
}"Somebody get me some water!" She looked up to see Blue Turley still standing over them looking down at the man he'd laid low.
}"There's no water here," he said quietly. "Bring the Carrot some whiskey," he called out behind him. "She needs to tend to her man." Turning his attention to another area of the crowd, the ghost of a smile appeared on his face. "And my gal best be tending to me."
}Tulsa May watched as Emma Dix separated herself from the crowd to stand beside Turley. Her expression was strange and vague as she gazed down at Luther. When she caught Tulsa May's eye, that vagueness turned to shame.
}"Let's get out of here," she said to Turley. He wrapped an arm about her shoulders and leaned upon her a little more heavily than was necessary as they made their way through the crowd.
}Chapter 16
}Luther moaned deep in his throat and tried to stir.
}"Don't move," Tulsa May admonished as she knelt over him. "You've been hurt."
}"Here's a jug of whiskey, ma'am," Elm said as he squatted down beside her. "Outside this stuff will clean his wounds and inside it will revive his spirit."
}Luther moaned again. "My spirit doesn't need reviving," he complained as he tried to sit.
}"Please lie back down," Tulsa May told him. "I don't want you to faint."
}He looked at her curiously through the one eye that wasn't swelling. "Lord help me, Tulsy," he said. "If I faint, just shoot me. I don't think I could live with the embarrassment."
}Elm chuckled. "You don't look much worse than the other guy."
}Luther glanced at the other man skeptically. "Did he walk out of here?"
}"Yep."
}"Then at least let me get to my feet."
}"You'll do no such thing!" Tulsa May grabbed the brown pottery jug that contained the moonshine whiskey and jerked the cork out of the top. From her skirt pocket she retrieved a dainty white linen handkerchief. She tipped the whiskey jug across her knee and splashed a very liberal amount of the acrid-smelling liquid on the pretty hanky.
}"Good Lord, Tulsy!" Luther exclaimed. "You're going to smell like a distillery."
}"Let me worry about that. Now lean up if you can and let me look at the damage on the back of your head."
}Luther did as he was bid. His only hesitance was in response to the queasy feeling that overtook him. He hoped Tulsa May was wrong and that he wasn't about to faint.
}"Ouch!" Luther jumped slightly as the whiskey-dampened hanky made contact with the wound. "Damn it, that hurts!"
}"Sorry," Tulsa May answered. "I need to get you home where I can look at this in the light."
}"Lord Almighty, Tulsy," Luther answered. "All I need is to take you back to the parsonage with my face all smashed up and you smelling of whiskey."
}"Parsonage?" Elm was incredulous.
}"My father is Reverend Binder," Tulsa May admitted.
}Elm looked down at Luther wide-eyed. "Boy, I thought you had good sense. If I'da known you to be foolish enough to bring a preacher's daughter to a dance hall, I'da never of bet my money on you."
}Luther sat on the ground cringing as Tulsa May washed his wounds with the stinging corn liquor. "That's why the preachers talk against gambling," he answered Elm. "Because there is no sure thing in life except death and judgment."
}"Help me get him to the car." Tulsa May spoke with authority to Elm. The big man squatted down and picked up Luther like a baby.
}"Damn it, let me down! If Turley can walk out of here, so can I."
}Elm allowed Luther to stand, but continued to support him as they made their way to the Runabout.
}"Lean against me, boy," Elm said. "Don't you know that pride cometh before a fall?"
}"I've already fallen several times," Luther snapped. "I think I'm getting used to it."
}Carefully, hesitantly, Luther, with Elm's assistance, climbed up into the passenger seat. But the exertion took a lot of the sass out of him and he sat rather quietly. Elm lit the acetylene headlamps and Tulsa May cranked the engine.
}"You take care of this fella now, Newspaper Gal," Elm called out over the sound of the motor. "I might get me one of these autocars one of these days, and I might need to get it fixed."
}"Don't worry, I'll take good care of him," Tulsa May said.
}"And you," Elm continued, pointing at Luther. "You take care of this little gal here."
}"I'll do my best," Luther said, forcing a smile.
}"And you find her a more genteellike place to go dancing. This ain't no place to bring a special gal."
}Luther nodded. "Hope you didn't lose too much money on me."
}The big man laughed loudly. "Six bits I lost," he said. "But I'd pay it again to see that fight. Nothing like a little bloodletting to let a man know he's had a good time."
}Luther's face hurt too much to chuckle, but it wasn't necessary. They could still hear Elm's booming belly laugh as they headed back down the road to Prattville.
}His strength draining, and sparkling little stars appearing in his peripheral vision, Luther realized that he
was
about to faint. "If you're driving, I believe I'll take a rest." He slumped down in the seat and attempted to fake a yawn only seconds before the blackness overtook him.