I couldn't believe I wasn't dead from the shotgun blast, but I didn't have time to figure out why or how badly I was injured, as I dived off the side walk in the direction I heard my pistol hit. As was my habit, at work I only wore my single gun rig. I did that so some drunken cowboy wouldn't mistake me for a gunslinger and try his luck at fast drawing. That's why I was frantically scratching around in the dirt for my only shooting iron, when I heard one of the bushwhackers stage-whisper to the other.
"I got him Clive, but I didn't get a clean shot because of the damned corner post. He lost his gun; I heard it hit the sidewalk. Cover me and I'll finish him off."
I heard the distinctive sound of the shotgun breaking open and heard both the empty shells ping onto the sidewalk, but I damn sure couldn't find my Colt. I finally stuck my hand under the edge of the raised wooden walkway and gasped in relief as my fingers closed around the cold steel barrel. I was pulling the gun out from under the sidewalk, when I heard the shotgun close and then a couple of bangs from a small caliber weapon.
I poked my head up as I picked my pistol up left handed, just as the man with the shotgun gave a hoarse cry.
"I'm hit Clive, the whore done shot me!"
Movement to my left caught my eye, so I quickly glanced over. What had caught my eye was Belle rising to her knees with a small shiny pistol in her hand and a fierce look on her face. The man she shot was swinging the scattergun around to bring it to bear on her, but Belle unflinchingly fired another round. My sweetie had probably taken care of it, but I jumped in anyway and ended shotgun man's misery with a 45 round between his headlights.
Keeping my pistol aimed at the mouth of the alley, I managed to clamber up onto the side walk and get unsteadily to my feet. I realized that adrenalin was all that was keeping me going now as I lurched forward towards the wall of the boarded up building. I could hear the sound of voices and running feet coming from the direction of Dos Amigos, the closest saloon to where we were, but I stayed focused on moving, hoping that I'd get a chance at the second ambusher. I made it to the edge of the building closest to the alley and knelt down to glance around the corner. The alley was empty, the shooter's partner long gone.
With my back against the wall, I used my legs to push myself up until I was standing. That little move took all the energy I had left. I guessed that my adrenaline rush was finally wearing off, as I slowly walked over to Belle. Bell was also on her feet by now, her little pistol still firmly gripped in her hand.
"Are you all right, Honey?" I asked softly.
Belle nodded, her eyes never leaving the dead man sprawled in the alley.
"It's all over Belle, so put your gun away and help me holster mine."
I was still speaking softly, partly to calm Belle and partly because I was becoming too fatigued to talk. When I asked for her help, Belle really looked at me for the first time since I pushed her. Unfortunately as she was looking, a couple of people came rushing up, one of them with a coal oil lantern. The light from the lantern's reflective back plate made it as effective as a modern flashlight and it illuminated us both brightly. Belle's expression turned to one of alarm.
"You're hurt," she said, as if I didn't already know it.
I looked down and was mildly surprised at the amount of blood drenching my shirt sleeve and dripping off my finger tips. I nodded dumbly to her question, the edges of my vision starting to blur.
"Yeah, I noticed," I said lightly, still trying to keep her calm. "I think I'm going to need Doc Willis again."
Belle had closed the distance to where I was leaning up against the wall. Belle had quickly gotten over the shock of shooting someone, and was focused on me. She turned to one of the newcomers and motioned him to help her sit me down. I didn't protest as they eased me onto the sidewalk.
The second man at my side was one of the two deputies on duty at night during the week. Belle began filling him in on what happened as she fished a pair of scissors out of her purse and started cutting my shirt off my arm. In all the time I had known her, I had never seen Belle take anything out of her handbag before except a hairbrush, now suddenly it seemed as if she had everything except a set of encyclopedias in there.
The deputy listened to Belle's story then went over to check the dead bushwhacker. He rolled the man over on his back and peered at his face for a minute before rejoining us. While he was gone, Belle had started wrapping clean strips of my shirt around my chewed up right arm.
"That there is Eldon Watkins; he's one of George Howard's hands out at the Lazy H. First time I seen him without that ugly little polecat Blevins next to him."
Belle answered him without looking away from where she was trying to staunch my bleeding.
"If that ugly little polecat's first name is Clive, then he was in the alley also. The one you called Watkins spoke his name after the first time I shot him."
My memories after that were a mishmash of disjointed snippets. I recall seeing Doctor Willis leaning over me and heard the pings as he dropped pellets he pulled out of my hide into a metal bowl. Faces swam in and out of my blurry vision, Anna, Maria, Molly, Naomi, Conchita and most often, Belle. The one constant in my dream world was the unrelenting burning pain I felt in my right arm and side. From underneath my arm, down to my hip, it felt as if someone had flayed the skin from my body. I think that laudanum in great quantities was all that kept me from screaming.
I regain full consciousness, lying on a narrow cot in the same cell in which I'd visited Pedro Diaz the first time I met him. It was deja vu all over again that Pedro was sitting on the bunk across the cell from me, quietly talking with Rosalinda. This time when I woke up, my mouth didn't feel as if it was stuffed with sand, and I could speak.
"What did you do this time Pedro, and why are Rosalinda and I in jail with you?" I asked.
Pedro and Rosalinda both jumped when they heard me. Then without a word, Rosalinda jumped up and sped out of the open door of the cell. Pedro also leapt off the cot and headed towards me. I was familiar by now with the enthusiastic hugging that Pedro and Rosalinda practiced, so I held up a cautionary hand.
"What's going on Pedro?" I asked.
Pedro grinned and patted his pistol.
"The sheriff, he put you in here for to keep you safe. Donna Anna knows I am the greatest vaquero in all the world, so she asked my Patron for me to help protect you."
I nodded my understanding, holding my tongue from commenting on Pedro's status change from the great cowboy in Texas and Mexico to the greatest in the world. Instead, I thanked him profusely. Pedro waved away my thanks.
"Es no problema, Amigo, but you must get well for my wedding next month, so you can sing."
I was telling Pedro I'd be there with bells on, when a tousled haired Belle came rushing into the room.
"How are you, Baby?" she asked.
Surprisingly, I wasn't in a lot of pain anymore, but I felt weak and drawn out.
"I'm tired Honey, but other than that, I guess I'm fine. What day is it?"
It's Friday afternoon, you've been out for about fifteen hours. Doctor Willis said you'd feel tired for a few days, because you lost a lot of blood before he finally staunched the flow. He worked on you for over two hours and dug eight pellets out of you. The good news is that except for a couple of blood vessels, nothing major was injured, and you should recover fully in a week or so."
Man, all that was good news, I guess I was a lucky SOB. With my physical status verified, I had a few other questions.
"Why did the Sheriff put me in here? Is there something else going on?"
"Not really, some of your friends suggested that you might need protection until you were on your feet. He thought this was the easiest way to accomplish that, given how riled up your shooting has the dancers and working girls." Belle giggled then and continued, "There was a stampede of women volunteering to be your nurses. Sheriff Faulkner will tell you all the rest when he gets in; you are probably not going to like what he has to say."
Belle was sure right about that, because when Matt Faulkner sat down and explained things, I would have exploded if I had enough blood in me. With Belle's description of Eldon Watkins' accomplice, Faulkner had immediately gone to Judge Howard for a warrant for the slimy miscreant Clive Blevins. Howard had refused his request for the warrant outright, citing that his only witness was a woman of questionable repute. Howard told the sheriff that if I could corroborate Belle's statement, then he'd consider a warrant. That's when Faulkner took seriously the notion of me needing to be protected.
Faulkner figured that Blevins was at least a hundred miles from El Paso by now. Even if Howard stooped to issue a warrant the next day, Blevins wouldn't be near enough to find.
I asked Faulkner if I could have the statements that he'd used to try to get the warrant, because I planned to file for a Federal warrant. Because I was a Federal Marshall, trying to kill me was a Federal crime. Faulkner smiled at that.
"Those were my thoughts also, Ty, so I put together a little package for you with all the information I have on not only your shooting, but any suspicions of criminal activity I have on George Howard's gang and Judge Howard's culpability in keeping that bunch from justice. I also wrote Cahill a letter in which I promised the full cooperation of the El Paso Sheriff's Office. I may be voted out of office next year, but I will leave with my integrity."
Mathew Faulkner was one hell of a man.
It did take a week for me to regain my strength and even then, my right hand and arm were seriously lacking in fine motor skills. I champed at the bit to be set loose, but stubborn assed Doc Willis nixed it. Sneaking out was not an option, because Belle and her posse of saloon girls and Lopez women enforced the Doc's every edict.
Oops, better let's back up a second. The last sentence above makes it sound as if I was being held hostage by Nazis or something, and nothing could be further from the truth. In fact, I was being treated so well, it would have embarrassed a lesser man than me. I, however, was man enough to stoically bear up against all the fussing, spoiling and attention the women in my life heaped on me. And believe you me, they did a lot of heaping.
Belle was the ringleader, but she had plenty of help from Maria, Naomi and Conchita. In addition, Anna was in full mother mode and Molly also spent a fair amount of time with me when her other duties allowed. Molly Dean sat with me that first evening I was well enough to sit up and flat out told me that when she found out I was hurt, all the posing about us being brother and sister went out the window.
"I realized that I loved you much more than as a brother, Tyler McGuinn, I love you as a man. I screwed up my courage and approached Belle about how I felt. She shocked me when she said she already knew that, and had been waiting for me to drop the other shoe. I have to admit that I was nonplussed at her description of your love life together, but she said I could do as little or as much as I wanted in that regard. I don't know if I'll ever be adventurous enough to try those things, but I am absolutely certain I can live in a family with more than one wife."
What she said blew me away, but also made me happy. I mean I was all set to let Molly go if it was in her best interest. Yet, if she felt her interest was best served being with us, who was I to argue?
I received my next pleasant jolt of surprise from Maria and her second cousin, Miranda Colon. The two young women finagled a late night tour of nursing duty somehow. I guess they got away with it because their parents didn't think they would get into any trouble being together. Boy, oh boy, if their parents even suspected half of what those two were up too, they'd never see the light of day.
Remember earlier when I told you about us being down by the river on the Fourth of July, and how Maria didn't seem to be shocked or offended when Belle kissed her? Well hell no she wasn't, because she and Cousin Miranda had been practicing making out with each other for months already.
Miranda was an amazing young woman, with a smoldering sexuality that she managed to hide from her family. She made it clear to me that she was going to unleash that sexuality on me as soon as I was well.
In the meantime, she and Maria were going to ambush Belle. I'd give a nickel to be a fly on the wall when that happened, because I thought Belle might have finally met her match.
By Sunday I was feeling strong enough to walk around some. Since Doc Willis gave me permission, the women grudgingly let me. Even with an armed escort, it was a blessed relief to be able to visit the jail's outhouse instead of using the chamber pot.
On Tuesday afternoon, Mister Garnet, the train conductor, brought me a package from Marshal Cahill. In the packet were a warrant for the arrest of one Clive Blevins and an authorization for me to temporarily deputize as many men as I needed for a posse. Cahill had also obtained a warrant to search the Lazy H ranch for Blevins or evidence of his whereabouts. The search warrant was a huge blessing for me, because I could actually search for anything I wanted in the guise of looking for Blevins.
Thursday, Doc Willis finally agreed that I could go home. He told me to convalesce one more day, then I could start work again. I was a happy camper when I thanked Matt Faulkner for all he'd done for me, and hopped into Belle's cabriolet for the short ride back to Molly's. It caused some grumbling, but I made Jose swing by the stables so I could visit Melosa. I felt horrible that I'd left her on her own for over a week. I promised her that I'd take her for a ride in the next day or so. Both Molly and Belle had walked into the stable with me and were clucking their tongues about me going riding.
As we were walking back to the carriage, Belle started in on my relationship with Melosa. She directed her comments toward Molly, but I knew they were for my benefit as well.
"I swear Molly, that horse is the only female in El Paso that I am jealous of. When we get a place of our own, he'll probably move her into the house. And the little hussy knows it too. Did you see the way she was looking at us with that little smirk on her face?"
I was back to my normal routine Friday morning, with the exception of Jose driving me everywhere I went. I wanted to walk, but I was emphatically voted down by Belle and Molly.
"You will ride with Jose, at least for today. Come home at one o'clock at the latest, or sooner if you get tired. Don't do anything stupid if you can avoid it, or there will be hell to pay when you get home," Belle said ominously.
I made a face at Belle when she turned her back, and I'll be damned if Molly didn't rat me out about it. I bolted out the door before they could torment me further.
Jose had received his marching orders earlier, I guess, because as soon as I was settled into the carriage's plush seat, he clip-clopped us over to Clem's. Right off the bat, Clem commented on my sad tonsorial state.
"I told Molly that I would be glad to come down to the jail and shave you, but she said they had that covered, so why do you look so scruffy?" He asked.
Clem cracked up when I told him I had lost enough blood without sacrificing more to some razor wielding woman.
While Clem spiffed me up, he filled me in on the latest news. My shooting had the town abuzz, because of the strong reaction from the saloon women. The men folk were muttering because as a group, the dancers and working girls started refusing to have anything to do with any of the Lazy H's ranch hands. About the only place those men were welcomed was the Longhorn Saloon and at Rosa's Cantina.
Next, Clem told me that rumor had it that Judge Howard had asked for the Texas Rangers' help with enforcing his claim to the Salt Flats. Howard had even gone so far as to try and make it seem like I'd been shot because of the salt. I asked Clem how he knew that to be a fact.
"Bo Thibodaux, the telegraph operator, told me. He said the judge's telegram to the Rangers mentioned how one of the officers of his court had been gunned down and how he was concerned for his own safety."
Charles Howard was some piece of work.
I asked Clem if he'd have old Bo at the telegraph office keep him informed of any reply from the Rangers, then I headed off for the Toro Cantina. No bath for me that morning, because the evening before, Molly and Belle had helped me take care of that little chore, thank you very much. I sat in the warm water while the two giggling, fully-dressed women knelt by the tub and took turns doing the hand jive with my sudsy Johnson.
Pen was happy to see me back at work, he said it was mostly because he needed the help, but I knew that he'd worried as much about me as I had him when he was injured.
The Happy Hombres strolled in at eleven and asked me if I'd come up with any new material while I was on vacation. As a matter of fact, with all the time I had on my hands sitting in the jail, I had dictated to one or another of the women about a dozen songs. I thought I had some dynamite ones for them, but we never made it past the first one, the Manhattans' "Kiss and Say Goodbye." Those fellas went nuts over that one, and I have to admit our version of it sounded damn good with me doing the basso talking introduction and Miguel Calderon, the Hombres tenor, doing the singing. The Hombres talked me into trying the number with them that very night.
I was having fun with the Hombres, and wasn't paying attention to the time. Luckily, Jose Colon was. Jose came bustling into the Toro frowning and looking at his watch. In short order, he hustled me out of the saloon and took off for Molly's, driving the coach as if he were Remsfield in the Dracula movies. I walked into Molly's kitchen just as the clock in her parlor gonged out the one o'clock hour.
Molly fed me some lunch, then sent me to my room for a nap as if I were a kindergartner. I would have been insulted if I hadn't been so sleepy. I was out as soon as I flopped across my bed.
My little nap did me wonders, as did the sweet way Belle used to wake me up. It is hard to wake up in a bad mood when a pretty blonde has your Willie in her mouth. When Belle let me out of bed to use the necessity, I was shocked that it was almost supper time.
I went to work at the cantina at seven as usual. The girls who worked there gave me a very warm welcome back. Pen put me in charge of the card games and he took my normal place keeping the bars stocked and the crowd served. The card gods were smiling on me, and I was well ahead when Pen came over and pulled me away from the game. I looked at my watch as I stood up; it was five after ten.
"You need to show your face in the ballroom, Old Sod; the women are
about to riot in there," Pen said.