Authors: Dorothy Garlock
“I have never been this happy in all my life,” she whispered.
“I’m happy too.” He kissed her forehead.
They sat in the wagon bed until the moon disappeared behind the pines on the western side of the homestead. A restless lobo
howled his frustration at being unable to find his mate. Far away she answered his call. Then there was silence except for
the wind that moaned softly over the tin roof of the shed.
Breakfast was an awkward affair. James was sullen and quiet. Knowing his unhappiness, Dory tried to douse her exuberant spirits.
Her eyes went often to Ben and his to her. Odette had given in easily when Dory had suggested she stay in bed until Jeanmarie
awakened and they could come down together.
After the meal, Ben picked up the water bucket and went out to the pump. He was back almost immediately.
“Someone’s coming.” He plucked the rifle off the pegs over the door, checked the load and went out onto the porch. James and
Dory followed. James shaded his eyes with his palm and looked down the two-wheel track that led toward Spencer.
“It’s one of McHenry’s boys.”
Dory felt a spurt of relief before she thought of Steven.
“Do you suppose it’s Steven?”
“Could be. He wasn’t in very good shape when I saw him.”
Ben took the rifle back into the house and came to stand behind Dory. Needing for her to know that he was there, he put his
hand on her back.
Hugh McHenry was a couple of years younger than his brother Howie. McHenry had named his girls after flowers, and his boys’
names all started with the letter H. It was sometimes confusing to everyone except the McHenrys.
The slender, freckled-faced lad rode his horse straight to the watering tank. It had been a long, fast ride from Spencer,
and McHenry had taught his boys to take care of the animals before taking care of themselves. While the horse drank, the three
on the porch walked out into the yard. The lad dismounted and snatched off his hat.
“Mornin’, James. Mornin’, Miss Dory.”
“Morning, Hugh. You’ve been riding that horse hard,” James said.
“Yes, sir. My pa said ta get up here fast.”
“Is it Steven?” Dory asked.
“No, ma’am. It’s Mr. Louis.”
“Louis?” Dory and James spoke at the same time.
“Yes’m. Miss Clara, the whor… the woman that works at the Idaho Palace shot him early this mornin’.”
Dory felt the blood drain from her face. “What was he doing at the Palace? I’ve never heard of him spending much time at places
like that.”
“Pa said to tell ya that ya ort to come. He’s gut-shot and ain’t goin’ to last long.”
“Hugh.” James held out his hand in a heipecss gesture. “Do you know why she shot him?”
“She told Pa and the marshal that he’d ra… forced her”—the boy’s eyes went to Dory and back to James—“and was chokin’ her
when she shot him with a little Derringer.”
“James,” Dory took hold of her brother’s arm. “It must be Milo and not Louis.”
“No, ma’am,” Hugh said. “It’s Mr. Louis, the bald-headed one.”
“Heavens. This has been such a shock.”
“How is Steven, Hugh?” James asked.
A grin spread over Hugh’s freckled face. “Ma told ’im that if he died on ’er, she’d be so mad she’d not go to his buryin’,
so he’s eatin’ now.”
“James, if Louis is dying, we’ve got to go.”
“You don’t have to, Sis. I’ll go.”
“Of course I’ll go. He’s as much my brother as yours.” She turned to Ben, a question in her eyes.
“I’ll go with you, Dory, if James has no objection.”
Dory turned to her brother. “Shouldn’t someone go tell Milo?” she asked.
“He was so drunk last night, he won’t know which end of him is up this morning,” he said with disgust, then turned to Hugh,
as if he were still trying to comprehend what had happened. “Louis tried to kill Clara?”
“Pa said he choked her so’s she cain’t hardly talk, but she told him that Mr. Louis went kind’a crazy, didn’t even know who
she was when he was doin’ it.”
Dory’s hands flew to her mouth. “It’s hard to believe it of Louis. He’s mean-mouthed, but I don’t remember ever hearing of
him hurting anything.”
“I don’t want to leave Wiley here alone until this thing with Milo is settled.” James shot a glance at Ben. “I’ll go tell
him, then hitch up the wagon. Sis, get Odette and Jeanmarie ready. Hugh, I’d be obliged if you’d ride on up to the mill and
leave word with Tinker about what happened. He’ll tell Milo if he’s sober enough to tell heads from tails.”
“Hugh, I’m sorry. I was so dazed I forgot to introduce you to Mr. Waller.”
“Howdy.”
“Hello, Hugh.” The two shook hands.
“Did you have time to eat before you left this morning?” Dory asked.
“No, ma’am. But I ain’t hungry. Not a-tall.”
“I can’t believe that. Come on in and eat something before you go to the mill.”
“Yes’m.”
Still in shock over the news Hugh had brought, the group was quiet as they left the homestead a short time later.
“Wiley, what more can happen to the Callahans? Milo has gone crazy, Steven was ambushed and now this with Louis. I can’t believe
he forced himself on that woman and then tried to kill her. It’s not like him.”
“I’d not a thought it, but don’t worry yore mind with it, Dory. Ya’ll know all the ins and outs when we get there.”
Dory dreaded facing the townspeople. Although not as much as it had a day or two earlier, her face still showed signs of the
beating she had taken. But her looks were a small concern compared to the disgrace of the family name if the marshal and Mr.
McHenry were right about what Louis had done. Minutes after Hugh had broken the news, Dory had choked down a terrible suspicion,
and until now she had not dared to voice it.
“Wiley, could it be that Louis is the one who killed those other women?”
“Don’t be a-jumpin’ the gun, Dory.” Wiley spit over the side of the wagon and slapped the reins against the backs of the team.
“I’d not be surprised at Milo doing something like that.”
“Sometimes what’s on the inside of a man don’t show up on the outside,” Wiley said thoughtfully as he flapped the reins again.
Jeanmarie was excited. She called out to James and to
Papa,
who were riding behind the wagon as they had done the day they went to the Malones. Over the last few days the child had
stopped calling Ben
Odette’s papa.
Neither Ben nor Odette seemed to mind, and Dory gave up trying to think of a way to correct her.
When they reached town, people were gathered in small groups along the boardwalks on each side of the street. They turned
to watch the Callahans come into town. Their eyes on her made Dory’s heart thud and goose-bumps climb her arms. Several lifted
a hand in greeting; others stared with accusing expressions on their faces.
Wiley turned the wagon at McHenry’s store, then turned again to stop in the space behind it. Hugh had said that Louis had
been taken to the McHenrys’ sprawling living quarters. Mag McHenry was the nearest thing to a doctor within twenty-five miles.
She lanced boils, set bones, stitched cuts and dug out bullets.
James lifted Dory down from the wagon seat, and the two of them went to the door. McHenry was there to meet them.
“Is he—?” Dory left the question hanging.
“He be alive still,” McHenry said bluntly. “James, can I be havin’ a word with ye?”
“Stay here, Dory,” James said, and followed McHenry into the building.
Confused, Dory sought Ben’s eyes. He had Jeanmarie in his arms and Odette stood close to them. Suddenly she felt as weak as
a baby. She wanted to go to him and stand within the curve of his arm, lean on his strength.
Ben saw her take a deep, quivering breath. Wordlessly, he looked at her and admired the proud way she held her head even though
her breasts rose and fell with each breath, telling him that she was not as calm as she pretended to be.
When she removed her wide-brimmed hat, the bruises on her cheeks and around her lovely green eyes were prominent against the
creamy skin of her face. Even in her drab skirt and shirtwaist and in shoes that had seen many years of wear, she was magnificent.
This morning when he had kissed her, he had caught the scent of breakfast, of soapsuds and the pure, sweet, musky smell of
woman. Just thinking about it caused his flesh to ignite and his nostrils to quicken.
“Ben—?”
“Don’t worry about the baby, honey. Odette and I will take care of her, and we’ll be nearby if you need us.”
“I do need you,” Dory said softly. “All of you.”
“Dory,” James said from the doorway. “McHenry tells me that Louis is out of his head and that you might not want to hear his
ramblings.”
“Poo! I’ve been listening to his ramblings all my life. He is Papa’s son, and we should be with him during his last hours
on earth regardless of how we feel about him or he about us.” Dory looked past James to McHenry. “Mr. McHenry, this is Ben
Waller and his daughter, Odette.”
“Howdy, mon. We be hearin’ of ye.” The two men shook hands. “Come in. Be making yerself ta home. The young lassie can be lookin’
‘bout in the store an’ findin’ goods fer her papa to buy—huh?” McHenry said with a twinkle in his eyes.
Just inside the door was a small room McHenry had set up for Mag to do her doctoring. He waited until Ben and Odette had gone
down the hall toward the store before he opened the door. Mag was bending over the cot where Louis lay. She turned when they
entered and Dory saw Mag’s shocked expression when she saw her face. Her dark eyes went from Dory to James and back to Dory.
“How be ye, Dory? It’s been a while since ye been to town.”
“Hello, Mag,” Dory said softly. “How is he?”
“I ain’t be knowin’ what keeps him a breathin’.”
At that moment Louis tried to rear up, and Dory could see that a band of cloth across his hairy, naked chest held him down.
There was another across his legs. A blood-soaked cloth covered his stomach. He was writhing in agony, his arms straining
at the strap that held him down. His gasps for breath were loud in the quiet room. Dory went to the side of the cot. Louis’s
eyes opened and he stared up at her.
“Ya goddamn bitch! Ya come—”
“Of course. James and I both are here.”
“Then get on… an’ ride, ya goddamn… slut!”
Dory backed away. “James, what does he mean?”
James glanced quickly at McHenry. “Sis, he’s out of his head. He doesn’t know what he’s saying.”
“Jean!” Louis yelled. “Ya gived it to that red-headed bastard an’ to that ol’ man, but ya warn’t givin’ nothin’ to me. I knew
what ya was doin’ when I heard them bedsprings a squeakin’. Ya ain’t nothin’ but a… whore nohow!”
Dory and James stood side by side and stared down at the man on the cot. Dory willed herself not to faint at the sight of
the red blood that soaked the cloth on his belly and the bloody froth that came from the corner of his mouth.
Louis lifted his head off the pillow. “I swore I’d kill ya an’ I did!” Hate-filled eyes stared up at Dory. “Ya goddamn Malone
bitch!” His voice was filled with rage. He tried to spit at her. “I choked the life outta ya. Ya begged, but I choked till
yore tongue hung out. Ha… ha… ha—” His dry cackle was the most evil sound Dory had ever heard. “Ya give that old man what
ort a been mine an’ I killed ya for it.”
James touched Dory’s arm. “Do you want to go?”
Slowly she shook her head. Louis was talking about her mother. He had carried that hatred all these years. Was it hatred or
love? He was killing her mother each time he had killed one of those poor women.
“Oh, James, I never dreamed he hated us so much.”
“Jean!” Louis shouted, his eyes wild. “Why’d ya come back for?” He tried to rear, then fell back and closed his eyes. “Jean,
you’re so… pretty—” he cried hoarsely. A few seconds later his eyes flew open and he looked at Dory with pure hatred on his
face. “Ya goddamn bitch!” he snarled, and for a moment there was recognition in his eyes. “I’ll choke the life outta ya and
that blasted Malone brat.” Blood covered his lips and his lids fluttered down. “Jean, why’d ya have ta—?” Bubbles came from
his mouth.
Dory turned her face away, and when she looked back, his eyes were closed and he lay still. Minutes dragged by. Mag went to
the head of the cot, felt for the pulse in his neck, then raised his eyelid. It remained open.
“He’s gone,” she said, as she closed the staring eye and laid a cloth over Louis’s face.
With his hand against Dory’s back, James guided her out of the room. The McHenrys followed and closed the door.
“Don’t ye be fearin’ that what he said ’bout yer mather will be prattled ‘bout. He be goin’ on like that since Mel, not wantin’
to look after him, but not bein’ willin’ to kill him fer what he done to Clara, brought him here.”
“He killed those other poor women, didn’t he?” Dory asked.
“’Tis what he be sayin’ he did.”
“Clara knew him or she’d not have let him in that late.” James turned to Dory to explain. “She has a room above the saloon.”
“Someone would have seen him go up there.”
“Not if he used the outside stairs.”
“Mel would not be thinkin’ ’bout the other women or he’d a throwed him to the hogs.”
“The marshal knows?” James asked.
“He heard Louis rantin’. Mel had given Clara the derringer to protect herself knowin’ they be a mon killin’ whores.”
“I knew he hated me and considered me a loose woman. I wonder why he didn’t kill me?” Dory thought of the many times she had
been alone in the house with Louis and began to feel a chill.
“We not be knowin’ how a mon’s mind be workin’,” Mag said. “To be sure he’d a harmed ye, is my way a thinkin’.”
“We’re obliged to you and Mrs. McHenry, Mac,” James said. “Tally up a bill and I’ll see that it’s paid. Sis, you stay here
and I’ll go see about a box.”
“Shouldn’t we wait for Milo? He’s more kin than we are.”
“We’ll bury him at sundown whether Milo is here or not,” James said firmly. “I’ll go talk to the preacher. I doubt there’s
anyone in town that’d help bury him. Ben and I will dig a hole, but not near Ma and Pa.”