The light from the quarter moon illuminated the well-worn trail as Jon made his way back to El Cabrera. The wonderful hospitality of his old friend Carlos had caused him to stay at the vineyard well into the night. He was feeling no pain, humming one of his favorite tunes, “Old Dan Tucker,” as he rode along the moonlit path. It was near midnight when he arrived in town. The street was empty except for several horses tied to the hitching post in front of the Dead End. Jon spurred Babe forward past the popular haunt. Light from the lanterns inside threw yellow squares across the street. Jon glanced inside; a bargirl gently laid her arm on the shoulder of one of the many gamblers. The diehards were still up testing lady luck. Tempted to stop and play a while, he rode on instead.
The street turned dark and quiet after Jon passed the saloon and rode toward Callahan’s; he looked into the shadows and noticed Stanton’s fancy buggy sitting in front of the popular boardinghouse. He pulled up to the hitching post, dismounted and tied down. The front door was partially open—someone had entered in a hurry. Jon could hear voices coming from Maggie’s room as he carefully pushed the door open and gently closed it behind him. Trying not to disturb the late night lovers, Jon walked quietly toward the stairs to his room. His pace slowed when he heard Maggie whimpering and sobbing. Concerned, Jon stopped to listen.
“You damn whore!” Stanton shouted angrily. “You’ve made me look like a fool!”
Suddenly Jon’s mind cleared. His senses went on full alert.
“I’ll teach you, you dirty—”
“No, George, no! Not again! Please!” Maggie’s voice was full of terror. Jon heard what sounded like a buggy whip hitting flesh as Maggie screamed in pain.
Anger shot through Jon like a bolt of lightning as he leaped over the front desk. He grabbed the door handle. It wouldn’t budge—the door was locked. He leaned back, raised his leg and kicked. The door flew open. Jon burst into the room, fists doubled. He was sickened by what he saw. Maggie’s nightgown was down to her waist, and she was kneeling face down on her bed. Blood oozed from several wounds on her bare back as the muscular Stanton, buggy whip in hand, spun toward Jon.
“What the hell…” the surprised mogul bellowed.
Jon rushed over, yanked the buggy whip out of Stanton’ s hand and threw it across the room.
“How ’bout tryin’ me on for size, George?” Jon’s fist blasted into Stanton’s gut.
His eyes went wide with shock. “Oh Gawd!” he screamed as he folded over in pain.
Maggie leaned up and slid her calico nightgown up over her bare breasts. She scooted over on her knees and cowered near the end of the bed as Jon’s brutal beating continued. Jon grabbed Stanton by his ears and slammed his knee into the brute’s forehead, knocking him backward against the wall. George bounced off the wall and began staggering around and looking for a weapon, he saw a cast iron stoker by the fireplace. He stumbled over and jerked it out of the stand. Lifting it above his head, he charged toward Jon. Jon ducked to the side as the heavy stoker slammed into the wood floor and stuck straight up. Jon slammed the dazed man with the back of his hand, knocking him hard to the floor. Jon bent over and lifted him up, he drove his fist into Stanton’s midsection again and again until he fell back to the floor. Jon leaped on top of him. Grabbing him by his collar and the seat of his pants, he dragged him moaning and kicking across the room and out the door. With a mighty effort, Jon lifted the bulky man up and tossed him across the front desk. George crashed headfirst onto the wooden floor in the lobby. “Damn,” he moaned, holding his head.
Jon jumped over the desk and yanked the whimpering brute to his feet, he looked him straight in the eye as he pulled tight on his collar. “Only a sniffling coward like you would beat a woman, George!” he snarled. Full of rage, he smacked Stanton across the face several times with the back of his hand.
“Stop! Stop! I’ve had enough!” George pleaded.
“That’s what Maggie said just before you buggy whipped her!” Jon’s fist once again blasted into Stanton’s gut. He folded over as Jon pulled the front door open and dragged him outside. Jon strained as he lifted the heavy man and tossed him on the leather seat of his buggy. Stanton held his stomach and groaned; his white silk shirt was stained with blood. Jon grabbed the reins of Stanton’s nervous steed and pointed her toward the mansion.
“You ever get within a hundred feet of Maggie again, I’ll kill ya!” Jon screamed as he yanked his hat off and smacked the hindquarters of the prancing steed. The horse leapt forward toward the edge of town. George bounced on the seat. “You bastard!” he moaned as the buggy rolled away.
Jon hurried back inside to Maggie’s room; she was sitting on the edge of the bed sobbing. Her face buried in her hands, her back covered with blood.
“I’ll get the doc.” Jon turned to leave.
“No! No! Please don’t, Jon!”
“But you have to—”
Sobbing louder, Maggie interrupted. “I’m a proud woman, Jon. I don’t want the town to know what that monster did to me. I should have never taken up with a man like him in the first place. I would be humiliated if people found out.”
“Stanton might let it out.”
“Do you really think George Stanton wants the town to know that Jon Stoudenmire beat him senseless?”
Jon hesitated. “We have to do something, Maggie. Your back is a mess.”
“My housekeeper Katie stays in room 101. She’s a good friend. I can trust her. She was a nurse during the war and has a bag of supplies she uses when we have cuts and bruises around here. She’ll take good care of me—would you get her, please?”
“Right away.” Jon hurried out the door and through the lobby to room 101. Several doors cracked open as nervous patrons peeked out to see what the commotion was all about.
Jon paused for a second. “It’s all right, folks. A drunk staggered in, fell and cracked his head on the floor. We’re taking care of it. Everything is okay—just go back to sleep.” There were grumbles as the doors clicked shut one by one. Jon reached Katie’s room and knocked. A short time later, the door creaked open. A sleepy Katie was standing before him holding a small lantern.
“What’s going on?”
“It’s Maggie. She’s been hurt and she needs you,” Jon pleaded.
“Oh, no! What happened?”
“She took a beatin’ and she’s cut up pretty bad, but I think she’ll be okay.”
“I’ll grab my bag and be right down.” Her door clicked shut as Jon hurried back to Maggie’s room.
“Katie’s on her way,” Jon barked as he hurried into Maggie’s room.
Maggie managed a weak smile. “I don’t know how to thank you, Jon. The ma....man was terrifying! I’ve never been through anything like that in my life. I thought he was going to kill me.” She covered her face and began to sob uncontrollably.
Jon rushed over and knelt down beside her, gently stroking her hair. “Just hold on, darlin’. Katie’s on her way.”
She grabbed his hand firmly; her terrified eyes looked up at him. “Please don’t tell anyone, Jon. Please!”
“I won’t, Maggie. I won’t tell a soul. And don’t worry about George. I told him if he ever comes near you again, I’ll kill him. I don’t think he’ll be back.”
“Thank you so much, Jon,” she said quietly as Katie hurried into the room with a pan of hot water. Her leather medicine bag hung over her arm.
“Oh my God, Maggie, you poor thing!” Katie gasped as she set the pan on the night table and snapped open the leather bag. She dipped a clean cloth in the warm water and gently dabbed Maggie’s wounds.
With things under control, Jon stood and walked slowly toward the door. He heard Maggie admonish her friend.
“Katie, you must keep this to yourself. No one must know!” Maggie said firmly.
“All right, Maggie, but what kind of animal would do this?” she replied.
Jon paused and looked down at the broken lock. Katie glanced over. “Don’t worry. I was born on a farm with three younger sisters and no brothers,” she said. “Soon as I get Maggie bandaged, I’ll fix that lock in a jiffy.”
Jon smiled at the spirited Katie and left the room.