CHAPTER 29
As soon as his train arrived in Dover Station, Mackey walked back to the livery car to retrieve Adair. She had nipped at the hostler when he had tried to put her in the stall back at Laramie, so they decided it might be better for all concerned if Mackey got her instead. He had set the saddle on her personally and led her out of the stall and down the ramp.
The hostler was cradling his bandaged hand. He still managed to catch the gold piece Mackey had flipped to him. “Sorry about the hand, mister. She’s not a friendly animal, especially around strangers.”
“She’s a demon if I ever saw one,” said the Scotsman. “A demon, sir.”
Mackey climbed up into the saddle and tipped his hat to the wounded man.
He rode behind the train and across the tracks, intending to see Katherine over at The Campbell Arms before checking on Walter Underhill’s condition.
But his path was blocked by five men on horseback. Each of them was wearing the brown dusters and badges of the Dover Station Police Department. Each of them had a Winchester resting on his hip, pointing at the sky.
None of them looked familiar, and Mackey wondered if Grant had hired on new men after the attack on Underhill. The bastard probably already had a plan ready to go before Underhill was stabbed.
Adair stood stock still at an angle from the five horses. Mackey crossed his hands on the pommel. His right hand casually near the handle of the Peacemaker on his belly holster. “Morning, gentlemen.”
The man in the center spoke first. “No sudden moves, Marshal. You’re under arrest for the attempted murder of Police Chief Walter Underhill.”
“That’d be a pretty neat trick,” Mackey said, “seeing as how I was out of town when it happened.”
“Had it done, then.” The man held out a piece of paper to him. “Mayor James Grant has issued a warrant for your arrest and ordered us to bring you in for questioning.”
Mackey ignored the paper. “The mayor doesn’t have the authority to have anyone arrested, so what you’re holding in your hand is useless.”
Given their obvious ignorance of the law, he decided to try a bluff. “I’m also the United States Marshal for this territory, so you can’t arrest me without a formal writ from a federal judge. Any attempt to impede my movement can result in an obstruction of federal law charge, which would land you boys a nice cell in Helena for a couple of years.” He looked them over, especially the big man in front. “You boys look like you’d be right at home in a cell to me. How much time have you done?”
The men’s mounts grew restless and had to be brought under control.
Adair hadn’t moved.
The lead officer put the phony writ back in his pocket. “We have orders to take you by force if you fail to obey our lawful command.”
“I don’t know what’s more impressive,” Mackey said. “You buying what Grant’s telling you or your ability to repeat all of those fancy words he’s feeding you.” There was something familiar about the man he couldn’t quite place. “What’s your name, boy?”
“I’m not a boy,” the policeman said. “I’m Acting Commissioner Al Brenner.”
The name had not meant much to Mackey when he had read it in the paper, but now that he saw the man, he remembered him. “You and I danced at the Ruby a couple of weeks back. Bad balance on your part, as I recall.”
“Nothing wrong with my balance now.” He gestured to the men flanking him. “I’d say I’ve got just the right amount of balance to take you in or take you on.”
Mackey acted as if he had not heard a word of what Brenner was saying. “You’re part of the Hancock clan, aren’t you? Cousin or something. Pig farmer, right?”
Brenner flicked the badge on his duster. “Acting Commissioner of the Dover Station Police Department. I’m taking over while Chief Underhill is indisposed.”
“Indisposed?” Mackey laughed. “You call taking a knife to the belly ‘indisposed’?”
Brenner’s beady eyes narrowed. “You coming peacefully, Marshal, or do my men and I have to rip you from the saddle and take you in?”
One of the men on the left of the arc of horses began to lower his Winchester.
A clacking sound that could only be a round being chambered in a rifle came from the warehouse behind him.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Mackey said. “I don’t think Deputy Marshal Halstead will appreciate that.”
They looked around to see Jerry walk just close enough to the warehouse entrance to be seen.
Mackey continued. “You’re new here, aren’t you, son? I’d wager these four are new, too. Hancock men from the looks of them. And the smell of them. They pig farmers, too?”
He saw Brenner’s Winchester flinch downward, but Mackey’s Peacemaker cleared the holster in time to stop him. “I wouldn’t do that, either, Acting Commissioner Brenner. See, if you had been from around here, you’d know I don’t travel alone often. So, not only are you covered by Deputy Halstead over there, you’re also covered by Deputy Billy Sunday from the top corner room of The Campbell Arms just behind your right shoulder.”
Brenner swallowed hard and looked in that direction. So did three of his men. Billy was clearly on the porch of the top floor, aiming his Sharps down at them.
Brenner faced Mackey once more. “Fair distance to hit someone.”
“With a Winchester,” Mackey agreed. “But not with a Sharps. You ever see what a fifty-caliber bullet can do to a man’s skull, Acting Commissioner Brenner?”
The involuntary flinch that went through him told Mackey he had. He wondered if he had seen it along the wagon trail outside of Chidester Station.
Mackey decided he’d had enough talk. He raised the Peacemaker so it was aimed squarely at Brenner’s face. “I’ve had a long train ride and I’m hungry, so if you and your men plan on doing something, do it now. If not, take that paper back to Grant and tell him to come find me himself if he wants to talk.”
Mackey could see Brenner didn’t seem to know what to do. He was a big man, maybe as big as Underhill, but he was much younger and unsure of himself.
And Mackey didn’t plan on allowing him to gain any experience on his behalf. “I’m getting real tired of this. Best get moving.” He thumbed back the hammer of the Peacemaker. “Right now.”
Brenner sneered as he brought his mount around and led his men back to Front Street toward the Municipal Building.
Mackey eased down the hammer on his Peacemaker and holstered it. He looked up at the balcony of The Campbell Arms and touched the brim of his hat to Billy. His deputy responded in kind before stepping back inside.
Jerry Halstead rode out of the warehouse atop his dappled gray. “Gotta give you credit, Aaron. I’ve never seen a lawman back down like that before.”
“That’s because they’re not lawmen,” Mackey said. “They’re hired guns with badges. Cut-rate hired guns at that.”
Halstead turned his mount so he could watch the last of Brenner’s men disappear along Front Street. “They’re not going to be happy about what we just did to them. Neither will the mayor.”
Mackey knew it would take Grant a few hours to figure out what to do next. Until then, he had other things to do. “Let’s head over to the Campbell and find out about Underhill.”
* * *
Since Underhill was resting, Mackey had no choice but to talk to Doc Ridley, who was attending to the police commissioner’s injuries.
“It’s a miracle he’s still alive,” Doc Ridley said in the dining room of The Campbell Arms. “If he had been in the hands of any other doctor, he most likely wouldn’t have made it. I just thank God that my training on the field of battle saw him through.”
Doc Ridley had been one of the men who had founded the town when Mackey was a child, so he had grown up hearing Pappy and the doctor trade lies about their time in the War Between the States. He also knew the doctor could never pass up an opportunity to gossip or remind anyone that he had once been a surgeon for the Confederate States of America.
“At least something good came out of that damned war,” Mackey said.
“For the people of this town, anyway,” Doc Ridley said. “The last time I saw an injury like Underhill’s was at Sharpsburg.” He looked down at his flat stomach and pointed at a spot just below the right side of his rib cage. “His assailant lunged forward and plunged a dagger right here, which traveled downward at an odd angle. The assailant lost his footing in the attack and stumbled into the thoroughfare, where Underhill shot him dead. The dagger was long enough to hit any number of vital organs that could have proven fatal. Instead, the blade punctured his gallbladder and remained stuck there.”
Doc Ridley sipped his tea and marveled again at Underwood’s good fortune. “One inch in either direction and the blade would have punctured his liver or his stomach or even an intestine. Damage to the gallbladder is quite serious, of course, but in the hands of a skilled surgeon such as myself, not entirely fatal.”
Katherine poured the doctor more tea. “We’re all grateful for your skill and bravery, Dr. Ridley. Walter surely would have died if it hadn’t been for your efforts.”
Mackey made sure he didn’t roll his eyes. She wasn’t complimenting Ridley out of kindness. She was also doing it to give Mackey a bad time.
Mackey decided to change the subject before the doctor’s ego got big enough to force them all from the room. “You sure he’ll make it?”
“No one can be sure of anything with a stab wound to the belly, Aaron. You know that. A tiny nick to any of the nearby organs could rupture at any time. I didn’t see such damage when I operated, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t there. So let’s just say I’m cautiously optimistic for the moment, but I wouldn’t advise him to resume a career in law enforcement.”
That was not the news Mackey wanted to hear. “I thought someone could live without a gallbladder.”
“They certainly can, and I have every confidence that Walter will do just that,” Doc Ridley said, “but he’ll never be the man he once was. He’s been attacked, Aaron. Stabbed in the belly and came within a whisker of dying. Men in your profession don’t often rebound from such a setback. It preys on their mind and for good reason. I’ve seen many a soldier damaged for life from being confronted with their own mortality, and I judge Walter Underhill will be no different.”
He looked around the dining room to make sure he wasn’t being overheard before whispering to Mackey, “We both know he was more bluster than ballast anyway. Texans are like that, as you know well, my Yankee friend.”
Mackey wasn’t in any mood to discuss Doc Ridley’s opinions about his fellow southerners. “Did you tell Underhill this?”
“Of course not,” Ridley said. “But he is aware that the mayor has already appointed a new man to take his place. One Alfred Brenner. Kin of the Hancock clan, I believe.”
“I had a run-in with him at the Ruby a couple of weeks ago,” Mackey said, “then down at the station just now. Had four others with him who had that Hancock look.”
“He brought them onto the police force with him when Grant gave him the job,” Katherine said. “The boys who were already on the force are none too happy about the changes, but they like the paycheck, so they put up with it.”
“Looks like Grant’s allowing the Hancock family to take over the police force as well as all of the other godless vices in town,” Ridley said. “Pretty soon, I fear we’ll find ourselves pining for the good old days when we only had James Grant to worry about.”
Mackey had to enjoy the irony of the situation. “I can remember a time when you held a couple of rallies to get me fired back when I was sheriff, Doc.”
“Prayer meetings can hardly be called rallies,” Ridley said. “And besides, that was a different time. I never questioned your intentions, Aaron, just your methods. Even a broken clock is right twice a day, you know.”
The doctor had not meant to do it, but his words sparked an idea in Mackey’s mind. Times may change, but people do not. Mr. Rice’s words from his office in Laramie came back to him, too. Maybe the change Grant embraced will also lead to his undoing.
He had not realized he had trailed off into his own thoughts until Katherine touched his hand and snapped him out of it. “Are you okay, Aaron? I know you’ve been through the mill with Mr. Van Dorn and all. Why not have Doc Ridley take a look at you while he’s here?”
He knew she would be upset when he told her about the bullet graze across his back. He also did not want an old gossip like Doc Ridley telling the town about his injury.
Part of the legend that had grown up about him was that he had never been shot before. The scars in his thigh and his right shoulder from his cavalry days proved otherwise, but he did not see any reason to explain himself to anyone. Any threat to whatever legend he had around him now might only make the Hancock men seem even tougher than they already were.
Doc Ridley took the cue to excuse himself as he had other patients to tend to. Neither Katherine nor Mackey dissuaded him from leaving.
When they were alone, Katherine asked, “What’s wrong, Aaron? I know it’s something.”
Mackey glanced around the dining room and was glad to see they were the only people there. He decided there was no easy way to speak his mind other than to say what he was thinking. “Mr. Rice wants us to give up on the town. He wants us to let Grant take it over. Says his company won’t support removing Grant because he makes them too much money. He wants you and me and Billy to move on to Helena so we can concentrate on our marshaling duties.”
“Mr. Rice has always been a very reasonable man.” She stroked his hand. “You’ve got more responsibilities than just Dover Station now, and Judge Forester would be a lot happier with you in the capital.”
“No one cares what Forester thinks except Forester.” Mackey didn’t want to sound bitter or angry, especially to Katherine. He knew Forester had a point. So did Mr. Rice.
He had every valid reason to just let Grant take over the town. But for some reason, he hated the idea of allowing the schemer to even think he had won.
He covered her hand with his, mostly to cover the trembling of his own. “If we go to Helena, I want you to come with me.” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. “And I want you to be my wife when you do.”
Mackey dared to look at her, expecting tears of joy. He was not expecting her to laugh in his face.
“What’s so funny?”
“Aaron, I left my life in Boston and traveled across the country to be with you.” She caressed the side of his face. “When I got here and found out you were married, I stayed just so I could be in the same town as you. And I’ve never regretted a day since, not even when Darabont took me, because I knew if he killed me, at least I’d been given the chance to see you every day. And I knew if he let me live, you’d come to rescue me. And you did, and you’ve helped me and the girls get past what those animals did to us.”
She eased his face toward her when he looked away. “A lot of men are good at riding in and rescuing a woman, but they’re scared to death about truly saving her. You did both.”
He began to deny it, but she held his head in place with both hands. “You held me through my nightmares. You helped me become brave enough to stand on the porch of my own hotel again. You helped those girls we rescued find a better life than they had before. You stayed when most men leave.”
“You were here,” he said. “Why would I go anywhere else?”
She smiled up at him. “I loved you from the first moment I saw you, Aaron Mackey. And I love you even more today. Of course, I’ll marry you. I just can’t believe you’d think any different.”
He looked at his coffee. “Didn’t work out so well for me the last time, Katie. Mary left. Maybe I’m a lousy husband.”
“We’ve been living together since she left,” Katherine said. “I know what you are and what you’re not. And what you’re not is a bad husband.”
They stood up together, and she let him take her in his arms. She was not as tall as he was, but she always felt warm and glowing whenever he held her. She pushed away all the troubles that preyed upon his mind and allowed him to just be happy for a change. She was his only weakness and she knew it, and she never used it against him.
They kissed, standing alone in the middle of the dining room of the hotel she had purchased when she had come to town to find him all of those years ago. He remembered seeing her on the front porch of her hotel for the first time since their affair in Boston and the warm feeling that had spread through him just from looking at her, and all of Mary’s yelling and cursing didn’t seem to mean as much to him as it used to.
She was wrong when she said he had saved her life. She had saved his life many times, simply by giving him one.
Neither of them broke off the kiss. They simply stopped at the same time as they always did.
She held his face in her hands. “But we’re not getting married yet.”
He felt his stomach drop even further than it had in Rice’s office. “Why not?”
“Because you have a job to do,” she said. “You have to take care of Grant once and for all, and I know that look you just had meant you’ve figured out a way to do it and do it the right way.”
He tried to answer, but she gently covered his mouth with both hands. “Don’t try to explain it. Just know I’ll be here for you, no matter what. And when the time comes for you to go to Helena, you’ll know it and I’ll be honored to go with you as your wife. But you’ll know when the time is right. Not Mr. Rice or Judge Forester or anyone else. You know this town. You know your mind, and you know what needs to be done. I don’t care if it’s tonight or next year, I’m not going anywhere except with you. But you leave when you’re ready or you’ll end up regretting it for the rest of your life. I’ve seen what regret did to you before, my love. I won’t let it happen again.”
He eased her hands away from his face and kissed them. He did not know why he was so relieved she had agreed to come with him. But hearing the words made all the difference.
“I’ll let Billy know, and we’ll figure out the particulars.”
She smiled and smacked him on the backside to go. “And tell him I want to see more of him in here. He’s getting too skinny.”
Mackey smiled as he gathered his hat and walked out of the dining room. Billy would be happy to hear that.
He would be happy to hear how they were going to pull down James Grant, too.