A Wolf in the Fold

Chapter 8

The four cowboys were buried on a hill in the shadow of the Fair Sister. I liked doing funerals. I did not have to make up sermons. All I did was read from the Bible and say a few words about how the dear departed were the salt of the earth and how much their friends would miss them.

The Tanners were there, of course, along with every last puncher on the spread. I counted sixteen plus the cook. Four servants Gerty employed and half a dozen townsfolk rounded out the mourners.

Calista Modine came. After the bodies had been planted and everyone was standing around looking sorrowful or pretending to look sorrowful, I remarked that it was a shame more of Whiskey Flats’s good citizens had not shown up.

Calista glanced around, then leaned close and said so only I could hear, “The LT outfit is not all that popular in some quarters.”

“Care to explain?”

Tugging gently on my sleeve, she drew me out of earshot. “For one thing, Gerty is not well liked. She is too high-handed with everyone.”

“Imagine that.”

“She behaves like she is a queen and the people are her subjects, and they rightfully resent it.”

At that moment the lady in question was scolding one of the cowboys filling in one of the holes for flinging dirt recklessly with his shovel and getting some on her new shoes.

“The other thing is that the LT’s hands tend to become rowdy when they come to town on Friday and Saturday nights. They shoot out windows and lamps, make people dance to a six-shooter serenade, that sort of nonsense.”

“Gerty permits that?”

“The owner of the general store and some others have complained to her time and again. She always says how sorry she is, but men will be men, and there is only so much she can do.”

“When should we talk to her about the Butchers?” I asked.

“The sooner, the better.”

The mourners, such as they were, began drifting down the hill. Townsfolk climbed into their buggies. Cowboys swung onto their horses. The Tanners lingered. Lloyd and Phil were arguing in hushed voices while Gerty waited in disgust.

I nudged Calista and went over. “Miss Modine and I would like a few words with you, if we may.”

“Save your breath,” Gertrude said.

“But, Gerty—” Calista began.

“But nothing. Do you think I don’t know what you’re going to say? That I must not be hasty. I must not jump to conclusions. There is no evidence the Butchers were involved. I should hold my men in check and not exact revenge.”

“You missed one,” I said. “Let the law handle it.”

“Texans don’t run crying to a badge every time someone steps on their toes,” Gertrude declared. “We handle our own problems, and the Butchers are mine.”

I was proud of myself for the quote I remembered. “Have you not heard, sister? ‘Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord.’ ”

“The Almighty can take his vengeance whenever He wants. I’ll take mine when I want.”

There was no reasoning with her, as I knew there would not be. But a real parson would not give up, so neither did I. “You will be damned for all eternity.”

Gertrude looked at me and grinned. “I already am, Reverend Storm. So I might as well make the most of the time I have left.”

“Oh, Gerty,” Calista said.

“Don’t ‘Oh, Gerty’ me. If you had my responsibilities, you would do the same as I am doing.”

Calista shook her head. “I would never kill. Nor would I ever give orders to have someone killed. And that’s what you intend to do, isn’t it? Unleash your cowpokes on the Butchers?”

“Justice demands they hang.”

“All of them?” Calista was appalled. “Even Hannah and the two girls?”

“When you find rats in your house, you don’t kill one or two. You kill them all,” Gertrude said harshly.

“We are talking about human lives. I warn you here and now, I won’t stand for it, and I have taken a step to prevent it.”

“Excuse me?”

I was as surprised as Gertrude. Calista had not said anything to me about it. “What sort of step?”

“I have sent for the Texas Rangers.”

Have you ever wanted to bash someone over the head with a rock? I think both Gertrude and I shared the same sentiment, because she turned as purple as a beet and balled her fists.

“You did what?”

“Last night. I’ve sent Horace to the Rangers with a letter I wrote detailing everything that has happened, from Everett Butcher going missing to the rustling and now the killings. Everything.”

The last thing I wanted, the absolute last thing of all the things that could be, was to have the Texas Rangers involved. My head swirled with the problems her Good Samaritan impulse presented.

Gertrude was carved from granite for a bit. Then, stirring, she said in a tone as cold as ice, “Please tell me you are making that up. Please tell me you are only trying to scare me into not harming your friends.”

“As God is my witness,” Calista said.

“Do you have any idea what you have done?” Gertrude was shaking with barely contained rage. “Do you have any idea what your meddling will cause?”

Calista squared her shoulders. “I have stopped you from doing something you would regret.”

“You stupid, stupid bitch.”

Shocked, Calista took a step back. “You don’t mean that.”

“I have never meant anything more,” Gertrude assured her. “You have stuck your nose in where it does not belong. I will never forgive you.”

“No one has the right to lynch whosoever they please,” Calista said flatly. “Not even you.”

Gertrude gazed toward the Fair Sister, then looked down at herself and plucked a dust mote from her dress. “Our friendship is ended.”

“What?”

“You heard me. You are no longer welcome at the LT. When I am in town, do me the courtesy of not speaking to me.” Gertrude started down the hill, but Calista caught her by the wrist.

“Gerty, you can’t mean that. It’s your anger speaking. We have been friends for years.”

“No longer.” Gertrude stared at Calista’s hand until Calista removed it. Smoothing her sleeve, Gertrude said quietly, “Friends do not interfere in matters that do not concern them. Friends do not stab friends in the back. I would never presume to tell you how to run your restaurant or your boardinghouse, yet you presume to tell me how to run my ranch.”

Not “our” ranch, as in hers and Lloyd’s, I noticed. But “my” ranch, as in hers and hers alone.

“Waging war on the Butchers is not part of running your ranch,” Calista argued.

“I beg to differ. LT cattle have been rustled and mutilated. LT hands have been killed. That makes it very much ranch business. Despite what you might think, it gives me the right to do as I please. But now you have interfered. You have taken the right to deal with the problem away from me. You have set yourself up over me, and it is an insult I will not bear.”

“I just don’t want the Butchers hurt.”

“How noble of you.” Gertrude dripped sarcasm. “How virtuous. Be sure to polish your halo when you get back to town.”

“Please,” Calista said.

“Our friendship is ended,” Gertrude repeated. “You are never again to set foot on the LT.” Wheeling, she strode toward the Tanner buggy.

Calista’s eyes moistened and she made as if to follow, but I caught hold of her sleeve and said, “Let me talk to her for you.” Calista motioned, and I quickly caught up to my employer. “Is our deal still on?”

“Of course it is,” Gertrude growled out of the side of her mouth. “I’ve paid half the money, haven’t I?”

“What about the Rangers?”

“What about them? It will be a week or more before they can get here. That gives you plenty of time to wipe out the Butchers and make yourself scarce.”

“I wanted to be sure,” I said. “I’ll start today.”

“It’s taken you long enough,” Gertrude grumbled. “As soon as you are done, come see me and you will receive the rest of the money. No matter what hour of the day or night.”

“Your husband might wonder why I’m on your doorstep at four in the morning,” I remarked.

“Who said anything about coming to the door? My bedroom is the second window from the left as you face the rear of our house.”

“But, Lloyd—”

“Didn’t you hear me? I have my own bedroom. He has his own. I only sleep with him when I am in the mood and I am hardly ever in the mood, which irks him no end.”

I could see where a husband might object to being barred from his wife’s embraces. “I can’t blame him.”

Gertrude stopped and faced me. “Haven’t you realized by now that I am accustomed to getting my own way? No one tells me how to live. Especially not my husband. I do what I want, when I want.”

The more I learned about her, the more formidable she became. “A lot of men wouldn’t stand for it.”

“Nonsense. Most men have the spines of jellyfish. Lloyd has no gumption at all. It’s why I married him.”

“You picked a puny man on purpose?”

“Weak men are easy to control. Strong men are not. I chose someone I could wrap around my finger and keep him wrapped from the ‘I do’ until I plant him. I haven’t ever told anyone this, and I trust you will keep it to yourself.”

It was with mixed feelings that I watched the Tanners leave. Lloyd had climbed up without a word, but the son had paused.

“Nice eulogy, Parson. Short and to the point. You’re not a windbag like some preachers I’ve come across.” Phil had winked at me. “Some people are never what you take them for, are they?”

That had me wondering. Had Gertrude confided in him about me? I hoped not. If she had broken her word, she was in for a nasty surprise when I was done with the Butchers.

Calista was waiting by the buckboard. I helped her up, mounted to the seat, and turned the buckboard around. Clouds of dust from those who preceded us caused her to cough and cover her nose and mouth with her hand. The LT was well behind us when she lowered it and commented, “All these years I thought Gerty was my friend.”

“She is upset about the killings.”

“That’s no excuse for severing our friendship.” Calista removed her hat and set it in her lap. The play of sun on her hair and face was quite appealing. “A true friend does not cast you aside like an old hat.”

“She will come to her senses in time and say she is sorry.” I did not believe that for a second, but I was such an accomplished liar by now, the lies spilled out without me having to think them up.

“You know better. Gerty never admits she is wrong. She never apologizes. Why should she, when in her eyes she never makes mistakes?”

“It must be nice to be perfect.”

Calista smiled and fluffed her hair. “She would say we judge her unfairly. But the truth is, she sees only what she wants to see when she looks in the mirror.”

“Don’t we all?” I rarely used mirrors. My reflection only reminded me of what I had become. Yet I had no hankering to change. Wasn’t that odd?

“True,” Calista said. “I just wish I knew what Gerty was up to. It might explain her attitude.”

“You’ve lost me,” I admitted.

“For months she has not been herself. Oh, she has always been a cold fish, and always looked down her nose at the rest of humanity. But something more is going on. She isn’t like she used to be.”

“You’ve still lost me.”

“How can I explain?” Calista asked herself aloud. “It’s little things you wouldn’t recognize because you haven’t known her as long as I have. She’s changed. Become more withdrawn. More secretive.”

“Maybe it is your imagination,” I suggested. It would not do to have her link Gertrude’s strange behavior to my arrival and the soon-to-be-departed Butchers.

“No. There can be no mistake. She changed about when Everett Butcher vanished. Although what those two could have in common is beyond me.”

I silently exhaled in relief. But I was also puzzled. Was I the one not seeing a link? What did Gertrude have to do with Everett? “Didn’t he disappear before the rustling commenced?”

“Long before,” Calista confirmed.

If Gerty was involved, her motive was a mystery. It was of no importance to me, anyhow. All that mattered was the job. Always, the job.

We made small talk and in due course I let her off in front of her place and took the buckboard to the livery. I checked on Brisco in his stall, then went to my room and sat on the edge of the bed to wait for the sun to set. Tonight was the night. At long last I could get to doing what I do best.