Читать книгу Buzzard's Bluff - William W. Johnstone - Страница 10

CHAPTER 5

He left the saloon and walked up to the stable at the end of the street. He found Henry Barnes cleaning out some stalls in the back of the stable. “You decide you ain’t gonna stay in town tonight?” he asked when Ben walked in. Everybody in town knew about the shooting at the saloon, so Henry thought Ben might be thinking about getting out of town, in case some of the cowhand’s friends came looking for him.

“No,” Ben answered. “I decided I’d stay awhile. I’ll bunk in the Lost Coyote. Right now, I’ll need my packhorse to carry my possibles down to the saloon. Then I’ll bring him back and I’ll want the monthly rate for boardin’ both of ’em. I’ll expect the same rate you gave Jim Vickers. Fair enough?”

“Fair enough.” Henry answered, then shook his head as if astonished. “It’s true then. Tuck Tucker said you came into town and bought the saloon after you shot that man down.”

“Well, that ain’t exactly right. I already owned the saloon before I rode into town. I shot the man after that.” He loaded the sorrel up rather loosely for the short trip back to the saloon, leaving Henry standing in the door of the stable shaking his head.

After he unloaded his belongings into his room in the saloon, he returned his packhorse to Henry’s care. Before he left for the night, he spent some time with Cousin while Henry stood talking to him. When he decided it was time to go to the hotel dining room for supper, since Annie didn’t cook supper at the saloon, he gave Cousin’s face a good scratching and asked, “Is Henry treatin’ you all right? You just let me know if he ain’t.” He looked at Henry then and said, “He’ll tell me if you ain’t.”

Henry chuckled. “Well, I’ll keep that in mind,” he said. But I ain’t likely to do anything that might rile you up, he thought, recalling Tiny’s description of the stranger in action.

* * *

He walked in the outside entrance to the River House Hotel dining room and was met at the door by Lacy James, who was serving as hostess. She gave him a good looking over before asking, “Welcome to the River House, stranger. Are you by any chance the new owner of the Lost Coyote?”

An attractive woman, he had to admit, but with a bit of smugness in her tone. “That’s a fact,” he answered her. “I’m hopin’ you permit saloon owners to eat in your dinin’ room.”

“You’re in luck,” she joked. “Today’s Tuesday and we let all manner of riffraff in on Tuesdays.” She gave a hearty chuckle in appreciation for her wit. “Come on in, Mr. Ben Savage.” When he looked surprised, she said, “Word gets around fast in this little town, especially when newcomers make as big an entrance as you did.”

“I can see that,” he replied.

“Let me officially welcome you to our dining room,” Lacy said grandly, “and invite you to leave your firearm with the others on the table.” She fairly beamed at him while he unbuckled his gun belt. “Will your family be coming to Buzzard’s Bluff soon?” she asked.

“You’re lookin’ at the whole family,” he informed her.

“Well, we’ll treat you like family here. Jim Vickers used to eat supper here every day and sometimes breakfast, too. Nice man,” she commented. “We’ll miss seeing him come in.” She waited for him to put his gun belt on the table, then asked, “You wanna sit at the big table?”

“How ’bout one of those little tables against the wall?” he answered.

“Anywhere you want, you’re too big to argue with,” she said cheerfully. “Cindy will take care of you,” she said when a young girl came out of the kitchen. “Enjoy your supper.” She spun around and hurried off to greet a couple of men, then escorted them to the large community table in the center of the room. Then she disappeared into the kitchen.

“Was that him?” Myrtle Johnson asked when Lacy came in.

“Yep,” Lacy replied. “That’s him, all right. Freeman said he heard he was a Ranger, just like Jim Vickers, but he looks a lot younger than Jim was when he came here.”

Cindy came into the kitchen then and headed for the coffeepot. “He wants the special, Myrtle,” she said as she poured a cup of coffee. “Seems like a nice enough man, kinda quiet.”

Lacy laughed. “I don’t know if that cowpoke from the Double-D would agree with you or not,” she said. “He made quite an impression on him. First day in his new business and he shoots one of his customers. I’m gonna have to get the whole story from Rachel Baskin.”

“I guess I’d better be careful not to make him mad,” Cindy joked. “Fill him up a big plate, Myrtle. I bet a man his size needs a lotta food.” She picked up the cup of coffee and headed back out the kitchen door. “There’s Freeman now,” she said as she went out.

Freeman Brown, the owner of the hotel, came in the entrance from the hotel hallway. Spotting the big man sitting alone at a small table, he walked over, arriving there at the same time Cindy got there with Ben’s coffee. “Ben Savage?” Freeman asked.

“That’s right,” Ben answered.

“Just wanted to welcome you to Buzzard’s Bluff. I’m Freeman Brown. I own the hotel.” He extended his hand and after they shook, he asked, “Mind if I join you for supper?”

“Not at all,” Ben responded, “have a seat.”

Freeman pulled a chair back and sat down. “Cindy, bring me a cup of that coffee, will you?” She asked if he was going to have supper and he said he thought he would, so she went to get his coffee. Back to Ben, he said, “Jim Vickers used to keep a room here in the hotel. Are you plannin’ on a room here, too?”

“Tell you the truth, Mr. Brown, I haven’t even thought about it. I’ve got a room in the saloon. I don’t know why Jim wanted one in the hotel. Maybe whatever drove Jim to need a place out of the saloon will drive me there, too. I’ll have to wait and see.”

Freeman chuckled. “I reckon he just needed a little peace and quiet sometimes. Well, I just wanted to let you know I gave Jim a special rate. If you decide you need a room, too, I’ll give you the same rate.”

“I ’preciate that, Mr. Brown,” Ben said. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Please, call me Freeman. That’s what my friends call me, and I hope we’ll be friends, too.”

“All right, Freeman. I don’t see why we wouldn’t be.”

They were interrupted then by the arrival of Cindy with two heaping plates of beef stew and a plate with four biscuits on it. “I declare,” she said to Freeman. “I went to get your coffee, and clear forgot it. I’ll be right back.”

“She’s a fine young lady,” Freeman said after she left, “a little bit scatterbrained sometimes, but what girl isn’t at that age?” There was a short period of silence while both men launched the initial attack on the plates of stew in front of them. After a few moments, Freeman resumed the conversation. “I heard about your rather rough welcome to town at the saloon today. And I think it would be remiss of me if I didn’t offer a word of caution. I don’t know if anybody told you, but the man you shot was one of the Double-D hands. And you’re gonna find out that the town has had its share of trouble from that bunch. A fellow by the name of Daniel Dalton owns the Double-D, and he’s never been one to keep a tight rein on his men. So it would be wise for you to keep a cautious eye about you just in case. You know what I mean?”

“I think I do,” Ben answered. ’Preciate the warnin’.”

Changing the subject slightly, Freeman, like Sheriff Bragg had, saw fit to tell him how competent Rachel Baskin had been in her role as manager of the Lost Coyote Saloon. “You’re mighty lucky to have had Rachel taking care of that place. She was running the saloon even before Jim Vickers died.”

“That’s what the sheriff told me,” Ben replied. Unable to resist japing Freeman, he added, “I had a meeting with her earlier today and fired her from that job.” He saw the immediate results of his remark in Freeman’s face. Before Freeman could respond, he said, “I made her an equal partner in the Lost Coyote.” The hotel owner’s face, flushed moments before, relaxed to form a wide grin. Ben was beginning to think that his new business partner might be the most popular person in town.

Freeman made it a point to tell him a lot more about the town and the people who had chosen to cast their lot on a settlement that grew from a trading post and a blacksmith to the bustling little town that it had become. “I’m sure all of us will give you our cooperation to help your business continue to be successful. Most of us hope you will run it the same way Jim did, and Rachel does now.”

“I reckon we’ll see,” Ben said.

Before they finished their supper, they were joined by another merchant, Cecil Howard, owner of Howard’s General Merchandise. Seeing Freeman sitting at the table with the newly arrived owner of the Lost Coyote, he walked over to meet Ben. “Rachel said I might find you here,” Cecil said. “I wanted to say hello and welcome to Buzzard’s Bluff before you met some of our lower-class citizens, but I see I’m too late.”

Freeman snorted a chuckle in appreciation for Cecil’s attempt at humor. He turned to Ben and said, “You’da had to meet him sooner or later, Ben. This is Cecil Howard. He’s the mayor, and we’re all still trying to figure out how he ever got elected. Maybe it was out of respect for his patient wife, Sarah, who’s had to put up with him at home for a good many years.”

“General store, right?” Ben asked as he shook hands with Cecil.

“That’s right,” Cecil answered.

“Ben just told me he’s made Rachel an equal partner in the Lost Coyote,” Freeman said. The statement brought a big smile to Cecil’s face.

“I swear, that’s good news,” Cecil responded. “Maybe that means you’ll let it run the way it always has, ever since Jim Vickers built it. We’ve got the Golden Rail Saloon with all its gambling and whores, knifings and gunfights. We don’t need another one.”

Ben understood now the compliments for Rachel Baskin from Bragg and Freeman. Evidently, Lost Coyote was the saloon of choice for the citizens of the town, while Golden Rail was the saloon that attracted drifters and troublemakers. “From what you’re tellin’ me, the Golden Rail is wide open and the place that attracts the kind of people that make trouble. Well, I found out the hard way that Lost Coyote attracts troublemakers, too. And we do have two prostitutes that I’ve met.”

“Well, sure, Lost Coyote gets a few of the wrong kind of customers,” Cecil replied, “can’t avoid that—but not like Golden Rail. And Ruby and Clarice are just there for some of the men’s comfort. They’re there, if you need ’em, and good company when you’re drinking, but they ain’t like the brazen prostitutes at the Golden Rail.”

They talked a while longer until finally Cecil said he had better go home before Sarah threw his supper out for the coyotes to feed on. Freeman got up when Ben did and insisted on paying for Ben’s supper. “It’s my pleasure,” he said, “now that I found out you ain’t thinking about turning the Lost Coyote into another sin den.”

Lacy James met them on their way out. “Well, how was your supper, Ben Savage?” He allowed that it was as good as advertised, and she would definitely see him in there again. He said goodnight to them all and took his leave, desiring to take a little walk around town before returning to the Lost Coyote. Outside, he paused to strap on his gun belt and exhaled a couple of deep breaths to expel the heavy air inside his lungs and replace it with clear evening air. As he walked the already deserted main street, he found it strange to believe he had actually decided to keep the saloon and try to run it. I might change my mind in the morning, he thought, knowing there was no harm done. As far as Captain Mitchell knew, he was still a Ranger just taking a short leave of absence. Thoughts of Captain Mitchell led to thoughts of Billy Turner, which prompted him to reassure himself that it was time to quit the Rangers. Thanks to Jim Vickers, he could walk away from Texas law enforcement, a job he had never cared for, but one of the few he was qualified to do. Instead of waiting until he was too old to cut it and forced to retire, he could walk right into ownership of a going business. Thanks to the management skills of Rachel Baskin, he quickly reminded himself, having already been informed of this three times.

When he came to the blacksmith’s shop, he decided he would take Cousin in after breakfast in the morning. It was time to have the big dun fitted with some new shoes. He wasn’t really looking forward to the everyday business of running a saloon, so he decided he was every bit as glad as Freeman and the others to have Rachel Baskin to oversee the daily operation of it. When he got back to the Lost Coyote, he went inside to find a moderate collection of customers. He imagined he could feel every eye in the place on the new owner. Seeing Rachel standing at the far end of the bar, he made his way back to join her. “Don’t you go for supper?” he asked.

“Sometimes,” she answered. “Most of the time, I like to be here to judge the evening crowd and see if everything’s running smoothly.” She smiled at him when he looked as if about to question. “Everything seems to be going fine this evening.” She could see that he was at a loss, thinking he should be doing something to help her, but without the slightest notion as to what that might be. “Don’t worry, there’s nothing you need to be doing. And don’t think I’m going hungry. I went into the kitchen a little while before you came in and made myself some coffee and ate a cold biscuit with it.”

“Do we ever close?” He had to ask.

She laughed. “Yes, we usually close at one o’clock in the morning. Sometimes there may be one or two customers that would stay all night, if we’d let them. And sometimes we’ll let a poker game go on past that time, if it’s big enough to sell a lot of whiskey. But most of the time we close the doors at one. Our regular customers are used to that, and most of them don’t stay that late, anyway.” She watched his reaction to everything she told him and figured he would be no more help than Jim had been. She preferred it that way. “Don’t worry,” she said, “I’ll take care of everything. Right now, how about a drink to celebrate our first day in business as partners?”

“I think that’s a good idea,” he agreed at once, thinking of a long road ahead before he would ever feel comfortable in his new role.

“Tiny,” she said, “let’s have a couple of glasses and hand me a bottle of the good stuff. Get a glass for yourself and join us in a toast to the new partnership.” She took a quick glance at Ben for his okay.

“Right,” Ben said. “Join us, Tiny.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Tiny replied, and filled three shot glasses with the expensive whiskey. They drank to the health of the Lost Coyote.

From that moment on, there was a sense of loyalty of purpose. Tiny picked up the three glasses and dropped them in the bucket of rinse water he kept under the bar. Then he took a long look at the two of them and decided this was going to be a good thing, as long as Ben was smart enough to stay out of Rachel’s way. And Tiny thought he was.

As Rachel had predicted, the crowd began to thin out well before the midnight hour, and when the clock behind the bar struck one o’clock, there were only two customers to be escorted to the front door. Ben retired for the night in the room where his benefactor Jim Vickers had slept, wondering what time he would wake up in the morning, since he was in the habit of going to bed hours before one o’clock.