15
“Talk to me, Juliana.” Slocum lay belly-down and propped on his elbows beside her in the bedroll. Spears of the golden rays of dawn were dancing on the tent floor in a small shaft of light that came between the folds of the front flap.
“Why?” she asked in a smoky-sounding voice.
“ ’Cause I need to know many things. Did your husband have anything to do with your kidnapping?”
“All that is fuzzy now. I can’t see it. One day, though, I overheard him say to his segundo, Valdez, She needs to go. Make it look like Comanches got her.” Lying on her back, she swept the hair from her face with her fingers. “One day in a lodge later on—with some stiff-dick buck bouncing on top of me—I recalled that. Why did Job put me there?”
She blinked her blue eyes and rolled over on her side to face him. “Why can I see and think now? Most of the rest comes as a wavy dream, like I wasn’t in my own body. I was outside looking at this woman that I barely knew who was dancing her way around slowly. She couldn’t talk. I wasn’t her, so I couldn’t talk for her.”
“Maybe someone smart could tell you. All I know is the woman who danced slow and I made love, too.”
She reached over and pulled him closer to kiss him. “No, you made love to me. Not her. But I was afraid if I talked to you, then it would scare her away and I would lose you.”
“Is this other woman gone today?”
“I’m not certain.”
“You know you are going back into a world that will hardly accept you?”
“I don’t care. What about him?”
“Toby?”
“Job Toby. Yes.”
“He wasn’t at home yesterday. The sheriff and I went out there. But I think he’ll run once he knows that you’re back.”
“Why did he sell me? I was his wife. I gave him the ranch he always wanted.”
“He has another woman living with him—Beth Ann Woolsey I think was her name. They were to be married when your death certificate was signed.”
“Her father has a bigger ranch.” She shook her head wearily. “Now I wonder about many things. Do you think he killed my father rather than the wreck in the wagon?”
“Juliana, I think the man was personally a very selfish, mean person.”
She nodded, and then squeezed her throat with her hand. “It hurts to talk that much.”
He smiled at her and scooted closer. Things might go easier for her now that she could talk. Entwined in each other’s arms, and soon with their bodies connected, they made love.
Carlos had breakfast ready when they emerged. He poured coffee and looked at her and then him. “What’s different?”
“She’s found her voice.”
“Oh, thank God. That is wonderful news. You’re going to be all right now?”
She nodded.
“That solves lots of things for me.” Carlos looked at the sky and waved at it.
Slocum laughed and blew on his coffee. “He’s my right arm. Chief camp cook.”
They all three laughed.
Over his meal, Slocum considered what they had to do next. Go into town and report the crime. Get a warrant sworn out for Toby’s arrest. Install her at the ranch with some personal guards in place. Then he’d be free to ride on. Sounded easy, but it might not be.
So the three rode into Mason after leaving word with Mrs. Hertz at the house that they would pay her for another night’s stay when they returned. Which apparently suited the hard-looking woman fine. Coming across the hill country of cedar and live oak, they saw that things were getting ready for spring. Earlier showers had the bluebonnets about to burst forth in seas of blue. Several black-suited men driving their farm wagons, either hauling in produce or coming home with feed and seed, stared hard at them in passing. No doubt wondering who they were.
At the courthouse, they dismounted, Slocum helping her down. She tried to smooth her clothing. Obviously, she had brushed her hair. But the much-worn skirt and blouse were not what she had been accustomed to wearing in town, and she acted upset.
To make her feel assured, he crowded in close and guided her toward the front door. Speaking under his breath, he said, “I should have bought you a new dress yesterday. There is still time before this day is over to do that, and there are, as you know, several dress shops in this town anxious to have you back as a customer.”
She shook her head, seeming amazed by his words. “You’re a darling. My friend was so glad that you rescued her from that camp of outlaws.”
Was she slipping away again? He certainly hoped not as he guided her down the hall and into the sheriff’s outer reception room. The sheriff’s clerk stood up and told him to go right on in to the inner office.
“Come on, Carlos,” he said as the youth hung back. “He needs your side of this, too.”
“Good morning, Mrs. Toby.” The sheriff scrambled from his chair.
“How are you, Sheriff Goldman?” she said.
He blinked, and then frowned. “You found your voice?”
“I can’t talk long. But yes, it has returned for now.”
“Sit down, ma’am. We’ll try not to wear you out. Slocum thinks your husband sent you to those Comanche.”
“He did.”
“I know that you’ve had an awful experience with those people. But you didn’t simply fall in their hands and blame him for it, did you?”
“It’s all very fuzzy, but one day I overheard him say to his segundo, ‘She needs to go. Make it look like Comanche got her.’ Then I was in their lodge. I think I was doped by my husband and sold.”
“I’m going out and arrest him.”
“Thank you.”
“You will be here to testify at the trial?”
“I will, sir.”
“All right, I’m leaving right now to go arrest him.”
Slocum nodded. “We need to get her some clothing, and then we’re going to her ranch, too.”
“What if he’s not come in yet?” Goldman asked.
“We’ll see that she’s well guarded.”
“Fine.” Goldman smiled at her with a nod of approval.
“Let’s go find some clothing for you to wear,” Slocum said to Juliana.
“Yes, let’s do that. Is Mrs. Draper still in business, Sheriff?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am. She’ll be glad to see you.”
“Thanks. It’s just down the block,” she told Slocum and Carlos, and they went out the office door after her.
At the sight of her, Mrs. Draper clutched her own bosom. “That really you, my dear Juliana?”
“Yes, and I need a riding outfit. I may need more if my husband threw my clothes away.” Then, as if she had considered the matter, she said, “Mine wouldn’t fit her anyway.”
“You are right, my dear.”
Juliana made a sour face, then smiled. “That’s a shame isn’t it? That they wouldn’t.”
“Was he shocked to see you?”
“The only thing that he’s going to see is Sheriff Goldman.”
“Oh?”
“You will read all about it in the next Mason Gazette, I am certain. Now the dresses.” She held her hand to her throat and coughed.
“Mrs. Draper. Please don’t ask her any more questions. She’s very tired,” Slocum said.
“Oh, dear. And who are you, sir?”
“My name’s Slocum, and I brought the lady back here.”
“And this young boy?”
“He’s no boy, and he’s my assistant, Carlos.”
“Well, she is very lucky to have both of you.” She gathered up her hoop skirt and with an armful of clothing, she said, “We must go in back to try these on, my dear, and find one to fit you.”
“We shall be right back,” Juliana promised Slocum.
Slocum and Carlos went outside and squatted on the boardwalk. The day had warmed up as they whiled away the time she spent inside trying on outfits.
“Will Goldman catch her husband?” Carlos asked.
“I hope so. He needs to be behind bars.”
Carlos made a face. “Who are those hombres across the street?”
“I’d say they were Pinkerton men. No one else west of the Brazos dresses as if they were in New York like that but his detectives.”
“Who are they looking for?”
“Probably those kidnappers who we got Juliana from. Earl Simpson and his gang, who robbed some cattleman up in Kansas of all of his proceeds.”
“Why would they be here? Those three were headed west.”
“Damn, you’re right. Last we knew, they were going west. You don’t reckon they came back here for her?” Slocum got to his feet, looking around for the Pinkerton men. “Where did those two dudes go?”
“I think in that saloon over there.”
“All right.” Slocum stuck his head in the door of the shop. “Juliana, you stay inside here. We’ll be right back.”
“I’m about dressed—all right, I’ll stay here.”
Slocum and Carlos crossed the street between two light wagons and entered Joe Shark’s Saloon and Billiard Parlor. The clack of ivory balls on the velvet table was the first thing Slocum heard as he pushed his way inside. The two detectives, clad in green-striped suits, stood at the bar, drinking beer from large mugs.
“Howdy,” Slocum said. “You two wouldn’t be Pinkerton men, would you?”
“What do we look like?” the one with bushy eyebrows asked.
“In Mason, Texas?” Slocum asked, and then ordered two beers.
“Yeah, in Mason, Texas.”
“Like two out-of-place suit salesmen. Who’re you after?”
“You the law here?”
“No, but I may have information for you.”
“We’re looking for Earl Simpson.”
“I’d guessed that much. My name’s Slocum, he’s Carlos.”
“My name’s Ingles,” the bushy-eyebrowed one said. “He’s Perdue.”
“Good to meet ya. I heard somewhere that Simpson was on the run from the Pinkertons over the robbery of some Texas cattleman of his proceeds from a big drive.”
The skinny one, Perdue, nodded. “You know where Simpson’s at?”
“Last I knew, him and his partners were riding west for New Mexico,” said Slocum.
“Well, his partners are dead now and whoever killed them crushed their balls before they died.”
Slocum scowled at the man. “Crushed their balls? Where did this happen?”
“Out in the Llano Estacado over a week ago.”
“Who did it?”
“We think a local here by the name of Toby may have ordered it done to them. He had two pistoleros riding with him that people say were very tough hombres.”
“Who was killed?”
“A kid called Freckles and a rough old man called Rudy.”
“Where’s Earl?” Slocum asked.
“We think he came here after that man named Toby, who may now have the stolen money.”
“The sheriff wants Toby. He’s gone to arrest him.”
“Good. He gets him, we’ll take him back to Kansas for trial.”
Carlos was through with his beer, and Slocum started to slap two dimes on the bar. Ingles stopped him. “We’re buying the beer. Mister, you get any information on either of them, we’ll see you get a big reward.”
Slocum thanked the two men, and then he and Carlos left to go back across the street to the dress shop. He found Juliana inside wearing a divided tan canvas riding skirt, a long-sleeve brown shirt, and a flat-crown felt hat.
Slocum nodded in approval. “You look nice.”
“I still need some boots.”
“Where do we go find them?”
“Over at Pitch’s in Decore. Can we ride over there next?”
“Let’s go.” He held the door open.
On the sidewalk, she caught his sleeve. “My husband owes that woman back there over three hundred dollars for dresses he bought for that hussy he’s been living with. Can you imagine?”
“I figure that’s probably not the only hump in the road. We spoke to Pinkerton men who are here looking for him who say he has the money taken by a gang up in Kansas from a cattle seller.”
“How could I be so dumb?”
He clapped her on the shoulder. “You had no way to know.”
“I sure didn’t. Why, I may spend the rest of my life paying off his debts.” She shook her head.
Two hours later, they found the sleepy village of Decore on Hurst Creek quiet, save for a few town dogs barking at them. Slocum dismounted in front of Pitch’s Mercantile, and helped her off her horse.
She reset her new black hat on her head before entering the door he held open.
A shorter woman in her thirties, nice set of breasts, thicker-set than Juliana, greeted her. “Oh, my God, you are alive, Juliana.”
They hugged.
“Why, let me look at you. You look wonderful.”
“Margie, let me introduce the two men who saved me. This is Slocum and that’s Carlos.”
“Oh, how wonderful. You two are real heroes. My gosh, we should have a celebration.”
“No. Margie, I need a pair of socks and boots.”
“Sure. Does your husband know you’re back?”
“No. The law has gone after him. He’s the one who sold me to those red devils in the first place.”
Margie threw her hand to her mouth, managed a short cry, before her face went snow white. Then her knees buckled. She fell to the floor unconscious.