Chapter 27

Mabel’s Bargain

I wasn’t much of a baby person, my wife having died before we could have any of our own. I soon grew bored of making goo-go onoises at the tot and went back down to join Nigel at the bar. Mabel followed me, and I poured us tall glasses of whiskey, while Nigel opened another bottle of gin.

“Ain’t you gonna go up and see the kid?” Mabel asked him.

“I think it would be best if I kept my distance for now,” he replied. “I haven’t been in the same room with a warm-blooded creature in a century. I might not be able to control my appetite.”

Nearly every inch of the floor was covered with wolf carcasses or chewed-up men. Hell-sent corpses didn’t keep long, and the scent of decay weighed heavily in the air. If you didn’t haul them to the pigpen quick enough, even the pigs wouldn’t touch them. I kept my glass of whiskey below my nose to filter out the smell.

“I know it wasn’t Buddy who killed Hardin,” Mabel announced out of the blue.

“Why you say that?” I asked.

“When they drew, there was a clicking noise immediately after the gunshot. Only Hardin hadn’t misfired. They checked his gun. All the bullets were in it, and there were no hammer marks. That means Buddy’s gun must’ve clicked empty.”

“I always did wonder about that,” I said, “but how do you know Buddy didn’t shoot Hardin?”

“Buddy always reloaded his gun right after he used it. It was the one thing he was careful about, so his gun must have been fully loaded. Nigel had grabbed his gun when he tried to talk them out of fighting. He knew Hardin wouldn’t be put off. Nigel must’ve slipped a bullet out of the first chamber before he gave it back. That way Buddy’d click empty and still think he shot Hardin.”

“Then who shot Hardin?” I asked.

“Nigel did,” she said. “He fired over Buddy’s shoulder. I was standing right beside him. He moved real fast. Could hardly tell he shot at all, except that a smoke trail came from behind Buddy. Then I saw Nigel slip a gun back in his pocket.”

Nigel didn’t say anything.

“I was wondering why you did it,” she pressed him. “With Hardin’s speed, he’d a been more help against the wolves than Buddy.”

Nigel packed a tobacco pipe in no particular hurry as blood seeped from the gash in his neck. Finally, he answered, “Hardin wasn’t exactly the fatherly type. Buddy was a better choice to raise the child and keep it safe in my absence.”

Mabel couldn’t argue with that. Even if she had shared her bed with the man, she knew Hardin was too cold for fathering anything but fear.

“But why’d you make Buddy think he done it?” I asked. “You coulda just killed Hardin outright and let it be known it was you.”

“Buddy needed the confidence,” Nigel said. “If he knew I fought his battle for him, how would he fare against the wolves, or me? Someday I might not be able to control my hunger, and someone has to be able to protect the child.”

A long, drawn-out moan came from under a pile of bodies. It sounded like a bleating goat. Nigel staggered behind the bar and filled a saucer with water. Then he put it below a mangled cowpuncher’s face so that he could lap it up.

“Why do you have such an interest in Ms. Parker anyway?” Mabel asked.

“She reminds me of someone,” he said.

“Your wife?” I asked.

Nigel nodded. “I guess we do look for redemption in this little town of ours. If I couldn’t keep my wife safe, perhaps I can protect a lady who reminds me of her.”

Nigel topped off all of our glasses. The saloon walls were sprinkled with bullet holes and the windows were shattered. There were hardly enough men left to help the Chinaman drag all the bodies to the pigpen.

“Buddy doesn’t have to know you shot Hardin,” Mabel said. “But I need something from you. The way it is now, a woman doesn’t stand a chance around here unless she attaches herself to a man, and I don’t aim to be hitched to the likes of any of you. But if I open my own place, I can make the rules. Lucky was going to be my investor, and he already gave me his share before the wolves got him. Together, we have half the coins in town. I’ll need protection if I’m gonna go out on my own. Sal’s sure to kick up a fuss, and there’s bound to be others. I reckon a vampire’d be a pretty good bouncer.”

Nigel didn’t seem keen on taking sides. He preferred to remain impartial to human quarrels.

Ms. Parker called down for Nigel to see the baby. He ignored her, but she just called louder.

“So, we got a deal?” Mabel asked.

Nigel didn’t shake on it or nothing. All he said was, “I think I know a way in which I can protect your interests.”

Since Ms. Parker wouldn’t stop hollering, Nigel reluctantly crept up the stairs, but he remained at the doorway, as far from the child as possible.

“Oh, come in here,” she demanded. “If his blood does make you hungry, I wanna know about it now.”

“She’s right,” Buddy said. “Best to test the waters while we’re on alert. Don’t worry.” Buddy plucked his pistol from his holster. “I’ll shoot you if you start salvatin’.”

Mabel placed the child in Nigel’s arms. Sal trained the scattergun on his head and cocked the hammer.

“So, you got the hunger?” Buddy asked.

“Oddly, no.”

“You ain’t trying to trick us so you can eat ’em later, are you?”

“No, I have no hunger for him at all.” Nigel was puzzled. “He’s cute and all, but I don’t have the same reaction that I used to have toward living humans.”

“Maybe your hunger for us died when you did,” Ms. Parker suggested.

“No, the hunger is always there,” he said. “I just don’t have any hunger for this creature.”

The Crapper

Goings: In all, thirty-eight men left Damnation, including six cowboys named Jonny and some horse thief who rode up in the middle of the action and took a couple of wolves with him. Twenty-five wolves were counted among the casualties. I think Old Moe phrased it best when he said, “We done good for not having no fangs or claws or leaping abilities—just a few old rifles and some rusty bullets. We live to drink another day, for whatever that’s worth.”

Comings: Martin Parker: 6 lbs., 8 oz.