Chapter 9
Laurie and Richard
Patch made good time arriving in town where all the wagons came to meet. He decided to have himself a drink to celebrate his success before finding Cooper and putting a bullet into him. He might even wait around long enough to take care of Lane. He really didn’t want to ride all the way back to Wisconsin with that cold-blooded lunatic on his back trail.
Patch left his horse at the livery stable and walked to the saloon. He was going to get a whiskey and try and find out if any one there had seen his targets. Saloons were always the best place to go to get the most recent news and information. The bartenders knew everything about everyone. Patch stepped up to the salon doors and swung them open. He was always cautious entering an unfamiliar place. You never know who might be on the other side of the door that wanted you dead. Once his eyes had adjusted to the dimmer light he strolled up to the bar and dropped his saddlebags beside him.
“Barkeep, give me a whiskey!” ordered Patch.
Giving an irritated look that changed rapidly at the sight of the tied down gun, the bartender grabbed a bottle and walked over to Patch. He then placed a small glass in front of him and filled it from the bottle.
“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you around these parts before, mister, just passin’ through?” asked the bartender, trying to make small talk.
“Just pour, barkeep. I’m lookin’ for three boys that should have ridden in here a couple days ago. Have you seen ‘em?”
“Well maybe, there’re a lot of new faces around because of the wagon trains formin’ out west of town. But now that I think about it, there were three young boys in here last night,” remembered the bartender as he scratched his unshaven chin.
“Do you know where I can find em’?”
“I would guess with the wagon train,” answered the bartender as he stepped away to pour another patron a drink.
Patch raised the small glass with his left hand and downed his drink. He set the empty glass back on the bar with a slam. He picked up his saddlebags and walked out of the saloon, and headed towards the hotel. At the register he noticed the manager standing nervously behind the desk. When you lived on the prairie as long as many of these folks had, you could see death living in a man’s eyes. Having said nothing while Patch registered, the manager handed him a key and averted his eyes. Patch took the key, turned, and without a word walked up the stairs to his room. He unpacked his saddlebags and checked the loads in his rifle. Satisfied, he returned to the street and headed for the wagons. He spent the better part of the day walking around the schooners. With the sun beginning to fall, Patch decided to go find a nice steak and get some sleep. He found a restaurant called Mrs. Pritchard’s that looked good. Mrs. Pritchard was a two hundred and ninety pound man who had returned from the gold fields with just enough money to buy the original Mrs. Pritchard out. The food wasn’t that good but it was hot and filling. Patch stepped out of Mrs. Pritchard’s and onto the boardwalk. Stretching and lighting himself a cigar, he stepped off the boardwalk and headed out across the dirt main street. That’s when he spotted three boys and a woman trying to lift a very large man out of the back of a wagon and into a place with a wooden sign that read, "Doctor McCoy's hanging above the door. Deciding that these young gents just might be the ones he was after, Patch approached cautiously.
“Hey, you boys mind if I give you a hand there?” asked Patch.
“Sure, never turned down any help when it’s offered, especially when it’s needed,” replied Larry.
John was a little more cautious than Larry. The tied down gun resting low on the man’s hip didn’t miss his attention.
Patch moved in closer, “The name’s Patch.”
While lifting Richard out of the wagon Larry introduced everyone in the small group.
"I’m Larry Salinas, that ugly cowboy is John Calhoun; this is Laurie Martin and on the other end of Mr. Krause there is Ray Cooper."
As soon as Larry said his name, Patch dropped Krause and pulled iron. Everyone saw the gun rising and coming to bear down on Ray. They all went to set Richard down in order to stop Patch when there was an explosion. When the smoke cleared all eyes were on the dead body of Randy Patch lying face up with a bullet hole between his eyes. Sitting on his horse behind them was a man dressed all in black. The smoking gun was still in his hand, and it returned to its holster without ceremony.
“You better get that fella you’re carryin’ inside before he bleeds to death right here in the street,” echoed the voice from under the black hat.
“Much obliged mister,” said Larry still staring at the motionless Patch.
“Yeah, we were really lucky you came along when you did,” thanked John.
“Just passin’ by and thought you could use some help,” he said. Touching the brim of his black hat with two fingers he nodded to Laurie and said softly, “Ma’am.”
The four of them stared after him and then at the man laying face up in the street while a crowd began to gather.
Laurie slapped Larry behind the head, “Wake up, we need to get Richard into the Doctor’s office and get our faces off the street.”
“Ouch,” cried Larry, “Why did you pick me to cuff?”
“You were the closest. Now hold up your end and let’s get moving.”
Richard slowly began to open his eyes and was met by a burning pain that felt like a hot poker being jammed into his head. He reached to touch his head but his hand was stopped and forced back down next to him on the bed. Richard looked to see what had stopped him. Through the veil that still covered his eyes he saw an angel.
“Am I dead?” asked Richard seriously, “Are you an angel?”
“Lands no Richard,” smiled Laurie, “You’re the angel, my guardian angel.”
Leaning forward and taking his hand in hers she said, “If you hadn’t come when you did and tore into those men…I don’t know what I would have done.” With that said Laurie started to cry. She lowered her face down onto Richard's large chest. Richard placed his big hand on the back of her head to try and comfort her.
Suddenly she popped up and drying the tears from her eyes, she said angrily. “You great big ox, what were you thinking? You could have gotten yourself killed. Then I would have had you on my conscience. Don’t you ever do that again.”
Laurie rose from the chair next to the side of the bed, straightened her dress and marched to the bedroom door. There she stopped for a moment, and slightly turned to look back at Richard, “You’re not an ox, you’re an angel,” then promptly marched out of the room.
Richard stared at the empty doorway in total confusion.
“Well I can see from that dumb look on your face that you never tangled before with a woman in love,” echoed a voice from the other side of the room.
Richard slowly turned his head to look at who had spoken. The movement brought another shearing pain through his head. Ray was sitting comfortably in a chair with a teasing smile across his face, pretending to be reading a newspaper.
“What the hell are you talking about, and wipe that damn smile off your face. The beautiful lady was only bein’ nice to me.”
“Well, well, well, okay buddy, but you won’t be able to say I didn’t warn you. The way she’s been sittin’ here holdin’ your hand and wipin’ your brow, I’d say you got a woman on your back trail. Once they spot their target, you’re done for.”
“Thanks for the warning Ray; but to have a woman like that on your back trail… well, she is a fine woman. I wonder if she really has taken a likin’ to this old bear?”
“Now you’re starting to scare me. Quincy wants to start pulling wagons out tomorrow. He said he would have one of us driving your team until you’re up to it.”
“I’m up to it,” Richard said as he started to rise, but quickly had to drop back down onto the bed. “Okay. I guess I could use a little help for a day or so.”
“One of us will bring the wagon by here tomorrow and pick you up
. Now you should rest and I should go and find another place to hide our wagon. I’m sure Mr. Rip is still gonna want Laurie back. See you in the mornin’.”
But there was no response as Richard had already fallen off into a deep slumber.
“Buddy,” Ray said to his sleeping friend, “the wagon train can’t move fast enough and Rip will keep sending men until he gets Laurie back. You two have a future and I aim to see that you get that chance.”
Ray walked out into the parlor where Laurie was talking to the Doc. Larry and John were sitting in chairs facing the front door.
Ray looked over towards the doc, “Doc is he going to be alright? Can he be moved?”
By tomorrow he should be up to riding in the back of the wagon. He won’t want to sit upright for a while. If he does he’ll probably get dizzy and vomit,” his eyes shot quickly to Laurie. “Sorry Ma’am,” apologized the doctor. “Leave him in the wagon and in a few days he should be as good as new. You boys were lucky you picked a friend with such a hard head.”
“Thanks Doc,” said Ray as he shook the Doc’s hand and headed for the door. Larry and John both began to rise. “Boys, you stay here and stick close to Laurie and Richard. Shoot anyone that tries to harm either one of them. I’ll be back. I need to see a man about a horse.”
The boys sat back down. Ray walked out into the cool night air. Turning to the left he walked down the boardwalk towards the saloon. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do but he had to do something.
He stopped outside the first windows of the saloon and looked in. The room was filled with cigar smoke and the sounds of a tinny piano intersected with a woman’s laughter. The place was full of drifters, farmers, and men heading west for adventure. Ray thought he might walk in and sit at a table near the back. He was afraid of losing his edge; what little edge he might have. Rip was a big man in this town and instilled a deep fear in most of the townspeople. He hoped that Rip would think Ray smart enough to stay clear of him. Either he was not that smart or he was just that damn mad. Either way, Ray was tired of Rip and his kind bullying them around. He wondered for a moment if maybe he was put on this earth to knock out all of the bullies.
Ray stepped back from the window and turned down the alley next to the saloon. Two windows were above his head but too high to be able to look in, so he dragged an empty wooden crate over and placed it under the closest window. Standing on the box he looked into a dimly lit room that sat just off to the side of the saloon’s main room. Ray could hear two people enjoying each other’s company.
He stepped down and dragged the crate over and under the second window. Stepping up onto the box and looking into the room, he jumped back quickly.
"Shit, I hope he didn’t see me," Ray thought.
Slowly, he rose up to look again. The window was directly behind Rip’s desk chair, and a man was talking to someone in the chair. Because of the high back of the chair Ray couldn’t tell who it was. The tall man was getting ready to leave the room and Rip was holding the door open for him. Both men stepped through the door and walked out into the hall.
Ray pushed on the window and it slid open. Lifting himself up, he climbed through. Before stepping down into the room, he could hear footsteps coming back. Quickly he jumped behind the door, drawing his Colt and cocking back the hammer. The door swung open and Rip marched into the room slamming the door behind him. He walked around his desk and dropped hard into his chair letting out a sigh. He froze when his face turned towards the barrel of Ray’s Colt that was fixed on his right eye.
“What the hell do you think….” started Rip.
Ray cut him off, “Shut up Rip. I’m here to show you just how easy it is to get close to you. When you walked in I could have thrown a cord around your neck, slid a knife into your ugly hide or just kicked the shit out of you.”
“Okay, so you showed me how close you can get. What of it?”
“What of it? You still don’t get it. You think you’re safe and can’t be touched. Well I just proved you’re not. I’ll get this close again if you ever try to come anywhere near Laurie again or any of my partners. You’ll never know what hit you. Now get up from behind that desk and come over here. Stick your head out the door and tell the bartender you don’t want to be disturbed, that you’ll be workin’ all night.”
Rip moved to the door and started to open it. Sticking the barrel into his ribs, Ray muttered, “Remember, I would prefer you dead. Dead men don’t come up on your back trail.”
“Take it easy, I know what to do,” said Rip. He yelled out, “Charlie! Tell everyone to stay out tonight. I got work to do and I don’t want to be bothered.”
“You got it Boss, whatever you say,” came a response from the bar.
Rip shut the door and started to walk to the back of his desk. Ray hit him just once, hard across the back of his head, and he crumpled to the floor. Using some cord from the window curtains Ray tied Rip’s hands behind his back and gagged him. He dragged Rip to the window, opened it, and lifted him out. He hit the ground outside pretty hard. Ray climbed out and closed the window behind him. Grabbing his ankles he dragged him out the backside of the alley. Behind the saloon was open ground with an outhouse about fifty yards out. It was hard work but Ray enjoyed the thought of him wakin’ up where he belonged. He threw open the outhouse door and stepped in. It was a good size facility with two holes side by side. Ray kicked up the shelf where men sat, exposing the pit below. He estimated the pit to be about ten feet deep with one good foot of waste on the bottom. He dragged Rip into the facility, raised him up onto the edge of the pit and dropped him in. The soft, molten flowing floor helped break his fall. He laid there face up, sleeping like a baby. Ray replaced the shelf where it belonged. Turning to leave, a drunk approached the door of the shed.
“You done in there, mister?” he slurred. "I sure do need to get this gut relieved."
“It’s all yours,” Ray answered, and with a tip of his hat and a huge smile on his face he headed west.