The Stranger from Abilene

Chapter 16

Parker Southwell rolled his wheelchair to his wife’s bedside.

“How are you feeling, my darling?” he said.

“Look,” Lee Southwell said. She held up her right arm. “Look at the bruise the brute left on my wrist.”

“He’ll pay for it, my dear,” Southwell said. “Soon he won’t be around to trouble you anymore.”

Lee smiled. “Park, you’re so kind and loving. What did I ever do to deserve a husband like you?”

“You were in Denver at the same time I was,” Southwell said. “What would you call that? Fate? Serendipity?”

Thunder crashed overhead and Lee shivered, pretending a fear she did not feel.

“The thunder won’t harm you, my love,” Southwell said. “I’ll let nothing or no one harm you, ever again.”

Lee picked up a corner of the silk bedsheet and dabbed at the corner of her eye. She sniffed and said, “Does it ever trouble you, Park?”

“Does what trouble me?”

“That you found me in a . . . a house of ill repute?”

“Why, of course it doesn’t, my love. That was then—this is now. All I think about is our future together.”

“I was no good, Park.” Lee buried her face in her hands. “I’m so ashamed. . . .”

Southwell gently pulled his wife’s hands away. “There’s no shame. As far as I’m concerned, you were a virgin on our wedding night.”

Lee pretended to bravely hold back tears. “I wish I could go back, to before we met,” she said. “I would have saved myself for you, Park. Just for you to treasure.”

“I have enough. I have you.”

Southwell’s hand moved up until it touched Lee’s left arm. He squeezed. Much too hard. Painfully.

Lee winced, but did not pull away.

He could be like this, her husband, cruel, wanting to hurt.

Southwell moved his wheelchair closer.

Lee smiled and pulled back the sheet in invitation. “I’m ready for you,” she said.

No, I’m not. I don’t want your cold, skinny hand crawling all over me like a spider, the stink of your breath, your dead legs between my thighs....

Someone rapped on the door.

Relieved, and before her husband could respond, she called out, “Come in.”

Lon Clyde, one of the hands, stepped inside and removed his hat. He spoke to Southwell.

“Boss, Shad Vestal is back.”

“Well, man, don’t just stand there gawking at my wife. Did he get him?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re an idiot. Send Shad to me.”

Vestal stepped inside a couple of minutes later. He looked dusty and trail worn, his face gray with fatigue.

“Well?” Southwell said.

“He’s not in Bighorn Point.”

“Damn it, I know that. Kelly made him a deputy and sent him away somewhere to hide him from me.”

“I searched as far west as Robbers Cave, thinking he might be there,” Vestal said. “He wasn’t. Then I swung south to Limestone Ridge, then Blue Mountain.”

Vestal shook his head. “No luck. It’s like he’s vanished off the face of the earth.”

“I want that man dead, Shad. Saddle yourself a fresh horse and get back on the hunt.”

“It’s dark. I can’t find a man in the dark.”

“Yes, you can. He’s a rube and he’ll light a fire. Head north this time. Find him.”

“Shad,” Lee said, “track Clayton down just for me. And when you get him, take your time killing him. I want him to know he’s dying.”

“Well, don’t just stand there,” Southwell said. “You heard my wife: Kill the son of a bitch.”

Vestal nodded. “Just as you say, Park.”

He and Lee exchanged a single glance, but it was one that held memories of shared pleasures past and the promise of many more to come.

“That man is as big an idiot as the rest of the hands,” Southwell said after Vestal left.

Lee said nothing. As her husband’s hand went to her body again, squeezing, twisting, Lee consoled herself with one exquisite thought . . . .

Soon she’d kill the old man who was so greedily pawing her, spittle gathering at the corners of his mouth.

And then she and Shad would be free.

And rich.