CHAPTER 4
After Gresham had him squared away with a bed for the night, they went into the house where Gresham introduced Bannack to Emily’s mother and Ethel Bowden, the cook and housekeeper. Alice Gresham gave him a very warm welcome and expressed her deepest gratitude for protecting her daughter. Ethel openly looked him up and down, then commented, “I’m just baking some more biscuits right now.” She turned around and went back to the kitchen to check on them, while they proceeded to the dining room.
Before they sat down at the table, they were joined by Rex Green, Emily’s husband, who had just ridden in. A tall, slender, young man, he went first to embrace his wife before turning his attention to the stranger standing beside his father-in-law. “Sweetheart,” Emily said, “I’d like you to meet a good friend of mine. This is John Cochran. John, this is my husband, Rex.”
Obviously confused, since he had never heard a mention of a friend of his wife’s by that name, he looked at the formidable looking man and unconsciously tried to stand as tall as he could manage. “Pleased to meet you,” he said and extended his hand, almost stumbling when his son came from behind him and wrapped his arms around his thighs.
“Likewise,” Bannack replied.
When Rex looked back at his wife for an explanation, she chuckled and said, “I didn’t know he was my good friend until today.”
Gresham interrupted then. “John turned out to be a helluva good friend to the whole family.” He went on to relate the day’s events that led up to Bannack’s invitation to have supper with them and breakfast as well before he went on his way.
“I am certainly in your debt, sir,” Rex said to Bannack after he heard the story. “I hope you realize how much I appreciate what you did for my wife and my son. Especially on this big boy’s birthday,” he said and picked up Peter to give him a hug. “Of course, I reckon I should also apologize for my wife puttin’ you in a situation where you had to risk your life to keep her safe.”
“I knew that was coming,” Emily said, “but it was Peter’s birthday.”
“And thanks to Mr. Cochran, here, Peter might make it to see another one,” Rex remarked. “What if he hadn’t been there today?”
“Children!” Gresham scolded. “Let’s save the family fight until sometime after supper. I think I’d like a drink before we eat, and I know Rex needs one. How about you, John? I’ve got scotch and bourbon. What’s your pleasure?”
“Just whichever you’re trying to get rid of,” Bannack responded. “I ain’t much of a drinker, so one is about as good as the other.”
“In that case, I’ll pour you and Rex a shot of bourbon. Ain’t no use wasting good scotch on two souls who don’t appreciate the finer gifts of malt and grain whiskey,” Gresham said. He walked over to the buffet where the two bottles were and poured the three drinks. When he returned to the table, he raised his glass of scotch and said, “Here’s to those who watch over us and thanks to the Lord for sending folks who can do the job.”
Bannack wasn’t comfortable with the salute, which he could only assume was in honor of his actions on that day. It didn’t seem right for him to drink to himself, but he took a drink anyway. It burned his throat on the way down, just as it always did, and he wondered why he never seemed to get used to it. Thankfully, Alice Gresham took over then. “All right, now everybody sit down at the table before we drive Ethel’s temperature up. John, you sit down over here next to me.” Everybody sat down but Emily, who went into the kitchen to help Ethel put the food on the table and pour the coffee for everyone including Peter. When everyone had food and coffee, she sat down next to her husband. The conversation shifted to the cattle then, as it normally did at mealtime, with Gresham questioning Rex about the status of the herd. Rex told him that the main part of the herd had been successfully moved to graze closer to the ranch headquarters. He said that he hoped the herd was far enough away from the Bar-W to keep their riders from rustling any small groups of Rocking-G cattle.
Then Rex asked Bannack a question. “Those three men you stopped on the trail to town, do you know who they were?”
“I have no idea,” Bannack answered. “I think they were just drifters, like a lot of men you see hangin’ around a saloon. The bartender knew them, though.”
“So you don’t remember any names?” Rex asked. He was curious to see if they were any of the known troublemakers that hung out around town and the reason he didn’t want Emily to drive into town by herself.
Bannack started to say he didn’t know any names but then remembered. “I do know the name of one of them, the one I had to kill. The bartender told me his name was Ace Parker.”
Rex’s eyes lit up. “You killed Ace Parker?”
Seeing his reaction, Bannack immediately defended his position. “I had no choice. He went for his gun, so it was either him or me.” He looked around at the others. “I’m sorry, this ain’t no talk for the supper table. I beg your pardon, ma’am,” he said to Alice Grisham.
“No offense taken, John,” Alice said. “You didn’t bring it up, anyway. Rex asked the question.
“I sure did,” Rex said. “Ace Parker rides for the Bar-W.” He looked at Bannack and grinned. “At least, he used to ride for the Bar-W, and I expect the two fellows with him are Bar-W hands, too. I’ll bet old Luther Womack is fit to be tied right now. He lost his stud horse and two of his men are crippled. I’ll bet he didn’t know Ace and the two men with him were in town today. I don’t know if Mr. Gresham told you but we’ve been losing cattle to rustlers and we’re pretty sure those rustlers are Bar-W hands. We just haven’t been able to catch ’em in the act, so we finally moved our whole herd over on this part of our range, even though we need to be grazing that grass closer to the Bar-W range.” He paused then when he realized he had taken over the conversation with a subject better saved for later between him and his father-in-law. He looked at his mother-in-law and said, “Excuse my manners, Miss Alice,” which was how he always referred to her, “I’ll shut up about the cows now.”
“He can’t help it, Mama,” Emily said in his defense. “That’s all he ever thinks about.”
“That’s the reason he’s my foreman,” her father remarked. “I pay him to think about the cows all the time.”
When the conversation was shifted away from the cattle, it quite naturally fell upon Bannack and how he had happened to pass through their little town at the exact time when he was needed. He tried to explain that it was just happenstance. He was simply passing through town at dinnertime and he was ready to enjoy a good meal for a change. His explanation was not enough to satisfy Rex, however, for there was something about the softspoken stranger that suggested there was a deadly animal underneath the polite disguise. He restrained himself from questioning Bannack any further at the supper table, but he knew that Gresham would invite his guest to an after-supper drink and a cigar on the front porch. Out of respect for the ladies, Rex would wait till then to continue his interrogation.
When everyone had finished eating, the polite conversation continued until Ethel came in and pointedly started picking up the dirty dishes. Her actions were enough to cause Gresham to suggest brandy and cigars out on the porch. Bannack was not particularly inclined to have another drink, but he had never had a drink of brandy, so he decided to see what it was like. And he figured he might as well smoke a cigar, too, since it wasn’t costing him any money. So when they got up from the table, he thanked Alice and Emily for their hospitality, then he thanked Ethel for his supper. “I haven’t enjoyed food that good in a long time,” he told her, which pleased her very much. He told himself that he was not lying because it seemed like a long time since he had eaten dinner at The Oasis Saloon.
He followed Gresham and Rex into the study where Gresham poured the brandy and brought out a box of cigars. Then they went out to the porch to sit in the rocking chairs and enjoy them. Rex excused himself briefly to speak to Willy when he passed by, then Rex resumed his questioning about Bannack’s encounter with Ace Parker. “Had you ever heard of Ace Parker before you came to Stephenville?”
“Nope, can’t say as I had,” Bannack replied. “Any reason I should have?”
“Well, maybe,” Rex hesitated. “Ace rode for the Bar-W, but he also had a little reputation as a fast gun in the half-dozen or so counties around Erath County.”
“Reckon not,” Bannack said. “Like I told Mr. Gresham, I’m from Waco and that’s a good ways from here.”
“I thought you mighta heard of Ace Parker and decided to call him out.” Rex was seriously suspicious of Bannack’s encounter with Parker, but he chuckled when he made the statement, as if he was joking. If Emily’s hero was as deadly as he looked, it wouldn’t pay to provoke him.
“Nope,” Bannack responded. “Mr. Gresham said it right when he told you I came up on the backside of the ambush those three fellows had set up for me. The only reason all three got shot was because when I told them to get, they wouldn’t. And they chose to draw their weapons on me, instead. Parker may have been fast, I don’t know, but he was faster than the other two with him. That’s the reason he got shot first ’cause he drew on a man already aiming a Henry rifle at him. I had to stop him. I had more time to place my shots on the other two, so they weren’t fatal. I didn’t see any sense in killin’ all three of them for lettin’ the one get them in trouble.”
“I agree with you, John,” Gresham spoke up then, anxious to put the issue to rest. “What are your plans after you leave here in the morning?”
“Just to keep on ridin’ until I find a place that suits me, I reckon,” Bannack replied.
“If you were looking for a job workin’ cattle, you could stay right here at the Rocking-G,” Gresham said. It had occurred to him that Bannack could fill the role of intimidator for the Rocking-G that Ace Parker had filled for the Bar-W. It could possibly discourage the Bar-W men’s wanton practice of rustling Rocking-G cattle.
“I appreciate the offer,” Bannack responded, “and if I knew the first thing about takin’ care of cattle, I might jump at it. But I’m afraid I’d have to be taught so much that it wouldn’t be worth whatever you paid me.”
“I expect, if you worked a farm, you could soon learn to work on a cattle ranch,” Gresham said. “If you change your mind, come on back. I’m sure Rex would welcome you.”
“That’s a fact,” Rex confirmed, having had the same thoughts about the big man that his father-in-law had.
“Thanks a lot,” Bannack said. “I’ll surely keep that in mind.” He sat and listened to Rex and Gresham talk about the cattle until he finished his cigar, then he announced that he was going to check on his horses and turn in.
“If you need anything, just tell Willy,” Gresham said. “He’ll take care of you, and we’ll see you in the morning.”
“Right. Much obliged,” Bannack said, going down the porch steps. He walked in the barn to make sure the buckskin and his packhorse were both taken care of, then he went into the bunkhouse, startling most of the men sitting around on their cots. Only a few of them had seen him before he was escorted to the house for supper. Pausing for a few moments in the doorway, his head bowed slightly to avoid bumping it on the top of the door frame, he said, “Howdy, I’m gonna sleep with you fellows tonight.”
“Why? What’d we do?” Gabby Daniels, the resident clown responded. The other men chuckled and Willy Crider got up from his cot to meet him.
“Come on in, John,” Willy said. “Boys, this is John Cochran. He’s just stayin’ one night with us, so make him feel welcome.” He looked directly at Gabby and said, “Ace Parker didn’t make him feel welcome, so Ace’s is dead now.”
His remark made Bannack want to cringe. He had just as soon Willy refrained from passing on that information. As he expected, the comment got everyone’s rapt attention, and the whole bunkhouse went silent as if waiting for him to address them. “I appreciate you fellows letting me bunk with you tonight,” was all he could think of to say. He was happy to see that there were no questions from anyone about the confrontation with Ace Parker and the other two Bar-W riders. It didn’t occur to him that his physical appearance greatly discouraged any questions on any subject. When he went to the pumphouse to clean up a little before going to bed, Willy was besieged with questions about Ace Parker, but everyone was exceptionally quiet when Bannack returned. Good, he thought, they forgot all about it.
* * *
He woke up early with the men the next morning, so he decided to eat breakfast with them in the cookshack. This was where Rex found him when he came down to get the men started for the day. “Damn, John,” Rex declared, “I’m supposed to tell you that they’re expectin’ you up at the house for breakfast. Ethel’s makin’ pancakes this mornin’.”
“That’s all right, Boss,” Gabby Daniels cracked, “I can take his place.”
“I just started to eat,” Bannack said, “and this looks too good to waste.”
“Ain’t no problem,” Willy Crider said. He reached across the table, picked up Bannack’s plate and scraped the food off onto his plate. “I’ll give you a hand. You don’t wanna do nothin’ to rile Ethel.”
“Much obliged, Willy,” Bannack said, then asked Rex, “When are they gonna have breakfast?”
“You can go up there anytime now,” Rex said. “She won’t fry the flapjacks until you’re sittin’ at the table, anyway. Mr. Gresham and Miss Alice are already sittin’ at the table waitin’ for you.”
“Damn,” Bannack swore and got up at once. “I’ll get right up there. I’m sorry, Lefty,” he said to the cook as he walked out the door. “That looked like a mighty good breakfast.”
When he was gone, Gabby remarked, “It took that scary lookin’ dude to stop Ace Parker. We shoulda sent Ethel after him a long time ago.” The cookshack suddenly got noisy again.
With his horses already packed and saddled, Bannack led them to the kitchen door, tied them at the handrail, and knocked on the door. “Come in, it ain’t locked,” Ethel yelled from the other end of the room. He walked in and saw her standing in front of the big iron stove with a big mixing bowl under one arm. With her free hand, she spooned out the pancake batter and poured it on a hot skillet. “Pour yourself a cup of coffee and take it on in the dining room. There’s sausage and grits on the table. These cakes will be ready in a jiffy.”
“Good mornin’,” he returned their greetings when he walked into the dining room. “I hope you haven’t been waiting for me to get started.”
“We just sat down,” Alice Gresham said. “You’re right on time.”
He doubted that, judging by the half-eaten pancakes on everybody’s plate. By the time he had served himself sausage and grits, Ethel walked in with a platter of hot pancakes. “Don’t hold back,” she said, “I’ve got plenty of batter.” The breakfast was fine and he ate all he thought he could hold because, for some reason, Ethel seemed to be determined to feed him until he burst. She seemed satisfied when he finally said he was done and that he was afraid he would not be able to climb up into his saddle without some help. It dawned on him then that she had approached this breakfast as a contest between the two of them and that she had won. She had brought him to his knees.
After the eating contest was over, he lingered for only a short time finishing up coffee that he had no place to put. He thanked them again for their hospitality and they, in turn, expressed their eternal gratitude for his actions on Emily’s behalf and made him promise to stop in if he was ever back this way. He was surprised when Emily stood on her tiptoes and pulled him down toward her to plant a kiss on his cheek. It was a first for him. He quickly said goodbye then and went out the back door where he apologized to the buckskin before stepping up into the saddle. It had been quite an experience. They were nice people, but he found he was more than ready to be on his way.
Once again, he was on the road, still with no destination other than away. He took the north cutoff that he had started out on from the ranch before. He soon came to the place where he had cut back to get behind the ambush. This time, he stayed on the narrow trail that eventually led him to the main road north out of Stephenville. He didn’t know where it might take him, but there were many tracks on the road, so he figured it must lead to somewhere. The rest of the day of travel was uneventful to be sure. Early the second day, he came to a crossroad with a small store just short of the crossing. There was a crude sign nailed over the door that proclaimed it to be Rubin’s Store. He decided to buy some more coffee, if Rubin wasn’t too high in price, so he guided the buckskin up to the front of the store and dismounted.
“Howdy,” Paul Rubin offered when Bannack walked into the little store. “Somethin’ I can help you with?”
“Howdy,” Bannack returned. “I’m runnin’ a little short of coffee. I’d like to buy some if you ain’t askin’ too much for it.”
Rubin looked him up and down as if he might have something more in mind than buying coffee. “If I asked too much for it, I reckon I wouldn’t sell much coffee. I sell roasted coffee beans in two and five pound bags for twenty-seven cents a pound. If you want me to grind it for you, I charge twenty-eight cents a pound for it.”
“That’s fair enough,” Bannack said. “I’ll take a five pound sack of the ground coffee. Might as well sell me a small sack of sugar, too.”
“All I’ve got is five pound sugar sacks,” Rubin replied, “twelve cents a pound.”
“That’ll do,” Bannack said. “It’ll last me a while.” He reached in his pocket and brought out some money to pay for it.
Rubin added up the two purchases for a total of two dollars and five cents. When Bannack put the money on the counter, Rubin called back over his shoulder, “It’s all right, Mother, he’s a payin’ customer.” A slight movement on a shelve behind the counter revealed a slot in the back of the shelve that Bannack hadn’t noticed when he came in. He realized then that the movement was that of a shotgun barrel being withdrawn. Seeing the look of surprise on Bannack’s face, Rubin said, “Tell you what, my wife made a pot of coffee just before you rode up. How ’bout a cup? It’s the same coffee you just bought, and we’ll say that extra nickel you just paid will be for a cup of coffee.”
“I knew I smelled coffee when I walked in here,” Bannack replied. “A cup of fresh coffee would be to my likin’ right now.” Seconds after he said it, the door to the room behind the counter opened and a petite little woman entered the store carrying a cup of coffee. She walked over and placed it on the counter in front of him.
Rubin chuckled. “I knew you was gonna do that,” he said to her.
“Oh, you did, did you?” She looked at Bannack then and said, “I feel so bad to think I pointed a shotgun at a perfectly innocent stranger who came into our store to trade. Please tell me you’ll accept my apology.”
“No need to apologize,” Bannack said, “since you didn’t pull the trigger. Have you been havin’ trouble with robbers?”
“Just lately,” Rubin replied. “There’s been a couple of no accounts who’ve been stealin’ cattle from some of the small ranchers and they hit our store last week. Came in like they was fixin’ to buy something and pulled their guns on me. Emptied my cash drawer and I had over thirty-seven dollars in it. So we figured we couldn’t afford many more visits like that and I cut a slot in that wall back of the counter in case we get another visit. Tell you the truth, this is the first time we got set up for a robbery since I cut that slot.” There had been a few strangers in the store since the robbery, but they didn’t appear especially dangerous. When they got a look at Bannack tying his horse to the hitching rail, they thought, This one might kill us and burn the place down. They did not share that information with the formidable-looking man, however.
While his wife ground the coffee, Rubin asked Bannack where he was heading, and Bannack told him he was just looking for a different place to settle for a while. “I noticed that east-west crossroad up ahead looks like a wider, more-traveled road. Where does that road go?”
“That’s the road to Fort Worth,” Rubin said, “if you go east on it.”
“Where does it lead, if you take it to the west?” Bannack asked.
“Just wide open prairie as far as you wanna go with a few small cattle farms trying to make it.”
“What if I stay on this little road out of Stephenville?” Bannack asked. “Does it lead anywhere?”
“I declare, friend, you really are a stranger in these parts, ain’t you?” Rubin responded. “Well, if you stay on this road, you’ll eventually come to a little town called Glory.”
“Glory?” Bannack questioned, thinking he had not heard him clearly. “The town’s name is Glory?”
“That’s right. I ain’t surprised you ain’t never heard of it. Back before the war, several farmers settled up that way. Then some ranchers found out it wasn’t bad land to raise cattle on till eventually a fellow named Walter Glory figured there was enough folks up there to support a general store. That was the start of it. I wish I’d been smart enough to build my store up there, instead of this crossroad. Then they mighta called it Rubin.” He paused and looked at his wife, shook his head, and remarked, “I never said I was a smart man when I proposed to you.”
“Sometimes you say the silliest things,” she replied as she emptied the last of the ground coffee in the sack. “We don’t have that much to complain about.”
“Anyway, Glory’s a sizable town now,” Rubin continued, “but I think they’ve got more saloons than a small town needs.”
“Maybe I’ll stay on this road and go on to Glory just so I can say I’ve been there,” Bannack said. “Much obliged for the cup of coffee, Mrs. Rubin.”
“What was your name?” Rubin asked.
“John Cochran,” he said. “Pleasure doin’ business with you.”