Thunder of Eagles

Chapter Sixteen

By dusk, the excitement that had been growing for the entire day was full blown. The sound of the practicing musicians could be heard all up and down Higbee Avenue. Children gathered around the glowing, yellow windows on the ground floor of the hotel and peered inside. The ballroom floor was cleared of all tables and chairs, and the musicians had been installed on the platform at the front of the room.

Horses and buckboards began arriving, and soon all the hitching rails on Higbee Avenue, as far up as Front Street and as far down as Bent Road, were full. Men and women streamed along the boardwalks toward the hotel, the women in colorful ginghams, the men in clean, blue denims and brightly decorated vests.

Once they were inside, the excitement was all it promised to be. Several young women were gathered on one side of the room, giggling and turning their heads in embarrassment as young men, just as embarrassed, made awkward attempts to flirt with them. At the back of the dance floor, there was a large punch bowl on a table, and Billy saw one of the cowboys look around to make certain he wasn’t being seen, then pour whiskey into the punch bowl from a bottle he had concealed beneath his vest. A moment later, another cowboy did the same thing.

Billy had been there when the doors opened because he wanted to be there before Kathleen arrived. Now his wait was rewarded when he saw Kathleen step through the front door, pause, and look around the room. When her eyes caught his, she smiled. Billy nodded toward the table that held punch and cookies, then started toward it.

“Good evening Miss Garrison,” he said when Kathleen joined him at the table.

“Good evening, Mr. Clinton,” she replied. She reached for a cup, but he put his hand on hers to restrain her.

“I wouldn’t drink any of that punch if I were you,” he said.

“Oh? Why not?”

“There may be a little more in it than you think.”

“I don’t—” she began, then she paused in mid-sentence and smiled. “Oh, I think I see what you mean.”

“The coffee is all right,” he suggested.

“Well, I don’t really need anything right now,” Kathleen said.

“We have a few minutes before the dance actually starts,” Billy said. “Could we take a walk?”

“No, I—” Kathleen began, then she paused in mid-sentence again. “All right, why not? There can be no harm in a walk.”

Stepping outside, Billy and Kathleen walked the entire length of the board sidewalk until they reached the edge of town. They continued on for another hundred yards or so until the sounds and the lights of the town were behind them. The Golden Nugget was closed for the dance, but the Hog Waller was still open and its patrons seemed to be trying extra hard to prove that they didn’t have to be at the dance to have a good time. Billy and Kathleen heard a woman’s scream, not in fear obviously, because it was followed by her laugh, which carried clearly above everything else.

Ahead of them lay the mountains, great slabs of black and silver in the soft wash of moonlight.

A sudden blaze of gold zipped across the sky, and Kathleen squealed with delight.

“Oh, look!” she said. “A falling star!” She shivered. “Oh!”

“What is it?” Billy asked.

“Someone has just died.”

“Why do you say that?”

“That’s what a falling star means. There is a star in heaven for every person on earth. And when someone dies, their star falls.”

Billy chuckled. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Yes. At least, that’s what I’ve always heard.”

“That’s not true. Besides, stars don’t fall.”

“What? Of course they do. We just saw one.”

“What we saw was a meteor,” Billy said. “Aunt Emma has a book about meteors, and I’ve read all about them. They are actually small chunks of rock which are traveling through space. From time to time, one of them falls to earth. I saw one once.”

“What do you mean, you saw one once? We just did see one.”

“No, I mean I saw one after it hit. I held it in my hand.”

“Oh, I bet it was beautiful,” Kathleen said. “They must look like a large diamond, they glow so when you see them at night.”

“They glow because they are heated up as they are falling. Actually, they just look like any other rock. There isn’t anything spectacular about them.”

“That’s a shame,” Kathleen said. “I rather like thinking of them as beautiful things.”

“Well, they are beautiful when you see them the way most people see them,” Billy said. “So they will always be beautiful in your eyes.”

You are a strange one, Billy Clinton.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You aren’t like any other man I know. You are different.”

“I hope that is a good different,” Billy said.

“It’s a very good different.”

They heard music from the hotel, not disjointed bits and pieces as if the band was warming up, but a complete number, indicating the dance had begun.

“I think we should get back now,” Billy said.

“Yes,” Kathleen said.

Turning, they walked quickly back to the hotel, stepping in through the door as the caller shouted, “Choose your partners for the Virginia reel!”

Billy offered Kathleen his arm. “May I have this dance, Miss Garrison?”

“I would be honored,” Kathleen replied.

The music began then, with the fiddle loud and clear, the bass fiddle carrying the rhythm, the guitars providing the counterpoint.

Although the band supplied the music, Prentiss Hampton had stepped in as the caller.

“All go forward and all go back,

Once more time forward and back.

Make a turn with your right elbow.

A big wide swing and around you go.

Those in front sashay down

And sashay back.

Now let’s have the elbow reel.

A right to the middle and a left to the side,

A right to the middle, then reel on down.

Touch in the middle and a’work your way back.

Sashay around and down you go.”

Around the dance floor, those who were without partners watched the dancers, including those who were too old and those who were too young. A few danced along the sidelines as if they had partners, but most participated in the dance by clapping their hands and stomping their feet.

“Oh, my,” Kathleen said when the dance was finished. She fanned her hand back and forth in front of her face. “That was most invigorating.”

“Would you like to step outside for a breath of fresh air?” Billy suggested.

“Yes,” Kathleen said enthusiastically. “Yes, I think I would enjoy that.”

Kathleen and Billy were standing out front when Falcon and Rachael Kirby came walking up.

“Good evening, Miss Kirby, Mr. MacCallister,” Kathleen said.

“Good evening,” Billy added.

“Good evening,” Falcon replied.

“Now, there’s a sight I never thought I would see,” Rachael said as she and Falcon stepped inside.

“What is that?”

“General Garrison’s daughter with one of Ike Clinton’s sons. Those two men are bitter enemies.”

“Surely, being in the business you are in, you know that such a thing isn’t without precedence,” Falcon said.

“What are you talking about?”

“Romeo and Juliet?”

Rachael laughed. “Why, Falcon MacCallister,” she said. “Who would have ever thought you were such a romantic?”

When Ray and Cletus stepped into the hotel ballroom, the dance was already in progress and out on the floor couples moved and skipped, swayed and bowed as the music played and the caller called.

“What we comin’ to the dance for?” Cletus asked. “We ain’t got us no women to dance with.”

“Looks like there’s some women over there that ain’t dancin’,” Ray said.

Cletus looked toward the women. “Damn,” he said. “No wonder they ain’t dancin’. They’re uglier than cow plop.” He looked around the room. “I’m thirsty. Ain’t there no bar in this place?”

“There’s a punch bowl over there,” Ray said.

“Hell, I don’t want punch. I want somethin’ to drink,” Cletus said.

Ray chuckled. “Believe me, at things like this, punch ain’t what you think it is. Come on.”

The two men walked over to the table to get a cup of punch. Cletus got his, then smiled after he took the first swallow. “You’re right. This here ain’t half bad,” he said.

The set ended and the couples left the floor. Cletus finished his drink, then wiped his hand across his mouth. “I’ll be damn,” he said. “Lookie over there.”

“Where?” Ray asked.

“Over there, just comin’ in through the door,” Cletus said. “That’s our little brother with the Garrison girl.”

“What the hell is he doin’ with her?” Ray asked.

“Why don’t we just go find out?” Cletus replied. Putting the empty cup down, he started across the room toward Billy and Kathleen.

“Oh, no,” Billy said under his breath.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“My brothers are what’s wrong,” Billy said. “They’re coming over here to make trouble.”

“Maybe they won’t. I mean, not in a public place like this.”

“You don’t know my brothers.”

“Well, now, Billy boy, what do we have here?” Ray asked, coming up to them then. “You mixing with the enemy, are you?”

“Enemy?” Kathleen asked.

“Yeah, Miss Garrison, the enemy,” Ray said. “Maybe you don’t know that not all the cattlemen want you pa puttin’ in a railroad here.”

“Ray, whatever is goin’ on between pa and General Garrison has nothing to do with Kathleen and me.”

“Boy, you ain’t got the sense of a day-old goose,” Ray said.

“Oh, I don’t know, Ray,” Cletus said. “She is a good-lookin’ heifer, you gotta give him that. What do you say, little brother? Can I dance with your girl?”

Billy felt Kathleen cringe beside him, and he reached out to take her arm reassuringly.

“If you so much as even look at her, I’ll—”

“You’ll what, little brother?”

Billy sighed. “Go away, Cletus. Go away and leave us alone.”

Cletus laughed wickedly, then held up his hands. “All right, all right, don’t get yourself in a piss soup over it.”

As Cletus and Ray turned away from Billy and Kathleen, they saw Falcon MacCallister standing close by and looking at them.

“What the hell do you want?” Cletus asked.

“Are these men giving you any trouble, Miss Garrison?” Falcon asked.

“Please, Mr. MacCallister, it’s nothing I can’t handle,” Billy said.

Falcon stared for a moment longer, then he nodded. “You know, I believe you can at that, Billy,” he said. He started to turn away.

“Hold it, mister, don’t you be turnin’ away from me now,” Cletus called in a loud, angry voice.

Falcon stopped and turned back to Cletus and Ray. “You have something to say to me?” he asked.

“Yeah, I have something to say to you,” Cletus replied. “Ray, this here is Falcon MacCallister, the fella I was tellin’ you about.”

“The one who gave you two black eyes?” Ray asked.

“Yeah,” Cletus said. Cletus forced another smile. “Only this time, he ain’t holdin’ a gun, he ain’t holdin’ a club, and he ain’t behind my back.”

“That’s right,” Falcon said. “I’m standing right here in front of you.”

“Well, you ain’t goin’ to be standing long,” Cletus shouted and, stepping forward, he threw a wide, arcing roundhouse right fist toward Falcon.

Falcon dodged the blow easily, then counterpunched with a straight left jab that landed at the point of Cletus’s nose that was right between his eyes.

“Oww!” Cletus shouted in pain, and he threw both his hands up to protect his nose.

“Heavens!” one woman said aloud.

“Oh, my!” another added as several were in position to witness the disturbance.

Falcon threw a second punch to the gut, and when Cletus bent over with an audible expulsion of breath, Falcon followed up with a right cross to the chin.

Cletus went down and out.

“Ray, get Cletus out of here,” Billy said.

“Yeah, I will,” Ray said.

Seeing Ray move toward Cletus, Falcon turned away.

“Falcon, look out!” Rachael shouted.

Almost on top of the warning, Falcon felt a blow to the side of his head. He saw stars, but even as he was being hit he was reacting to the warning, so though it didn’t prevent the attack, it did prevent him from being knocked down.

Instead of picking up his brother as he had said he would, Ray Clinton had swung at Falcon, trying to take him down with one, huge blow.

He’d almost succeeded, but when Ray swung at him a second time, Falcon was able to avoid him. With his fists up, Falcon danced quickly away from Ray in order to have room to maneuver.

“MacCallister,” Ray said with a low growl. “I think it’s about time you got your due.”

“Fight!” someone shouted. “They’s a fight!”

Almost instantly, the music stopped as the dancers and observers all crowded around Falcon and Ray.

“Ray, why don’t we take this outside?” Falcon suggested. “There’s no need to break up the dance.”

Ray smiled, an evil smile. “Hell, what do I care if we break up the dance?” he asked. “I ain’t got me no woman like my little brother here.”

“You don’t have a woman?” Falcon said.

“No.”

“Well, now, do you think it might just have something to do with your personality?”

Some in the crowd laughed nervously.

“Enough talk, you son of a bitch!” Ray said. “I’m going to whip your ass good.”

Ray swung wildly at Falcon, but Falcon slipped the punch easily, then counterpunched with a quick, slashing left to Ray’s face. It was a good, well-hit blow, but Ray just flinched once, then laughed a low, evil laugh.

“Five dollars says Ray whups him,” someone said.

“I don’t know. Falcon ain’t quite as big as Ray, but I hear tell he’s tough as rawhide. I’m going with Falcon.”

With an angry roar, Ray rushed Falcon again, and Falcon stepped aside, avoiding him like a matador sidestepping a charging bull. And like a charging bull, Ray slammed into a support post, smashing through it as if it were kindling. He turned and faced Falcon again.

“Damn, these two fellas could bring the building crashing down on us if they keep this up,” someone said.

A hush fell over the crowd now as they watched the two men. They were watching the fight with a great deal of interest. They knew it would be a test of quickness and ability against brute strength, and they wanted to see if Falcon could handle Ray. Falcon and Ray circled around for a moment, holding their fists in front of them, each trying to test the mettle of the other.

Ray swung, a clublike swing that Falcon leaned away from. Falcon counterpunched and again he scored well, but again, Ray laughed it off. As the fight went on, it developed that Falcon could hit Ray at will, and though Ray laughed off his early blows, it was soon obvious that there was a cumulative effect to Falcon’s punches. Both of Ray’s eyes began to puff up, and there was a nasty cut on his lip. Then Falcon caught Ray in the nose with a long left, and when he felt the nose go under his hand, he knew that he had broken it. The bridge of Ray’s nose exploded like a smashed tomato and started bleeding profusely. The blood ran across his teeth and chin.

Falcon looked for another chance at the nose, but Ray started protecting it. Falcon was unable to get at it again, though the fact that Ray was favoring it told Falcon that the nose was hurting him.

Except for the opening blow, Ray hadn’t connected. The big man was throwing great swinging blows toward Falcon, barely missing him on a couple of occasions, but as yet, none of them had connected.

After four or five such swinging blows, Falcon noticed that Ray was leaving a slight opening for a good right punch, if he could just slip it across his shoulder. He timed it, and on Ray’s next swing, Falcon threw a solid right, straight at the place where he thought Ray’s nose would be. He timed it perfectly and had the satisfaction of hearing a bellow of pain from Ray for the first time.

Ray was obviously growing more tired now, and he began charging more and swinging less. Falcon got set for one of his charges; then as Ray rushed by with his head down, Falcon stepped to one side. Like a matador thrusting his sword into the bull in a killing lunge, Falcon sent a powerful right jab to Ray’s jaw. Ray went down and out.

By now, Cletus had gotten back onto his feet, and he was glaring at Falcon.

“Get him out of here,” Falcon said, and Cletus and Billy grabbed hold of Ray’s unconscious form and dragged him away. As Ray was pulled away, the crowd began to disperse.

“Did you ever think anyone could handle Ray like that?” someone asked.

“Hell, look at Falcon. His hair ain’t even none messed up,” another said.

Falcon followed them outside, and saw Cletus and Billy put Ray belly-down across the saddle.

“Billy, you can come on back in,” Falcon told him.

Billy shook his head. “No, sir, I can’t,” he said. “These are my brothers. I’d better stay with them.” Then, leading Ray’s horse, Billy and Cletus rode away.

Inside, the music had yet to start up again.

“I’m sorry about that,” Falcon said, returning to Rachael Kirby.

Rachael was standing in front of the orchestra, talking to Edwin Mathias.

“Is that how all disputes are settled out here?” Edwin asked. “With an approach like that, it is no wonder this is called the ‘wild’ West.”

“I didn’t have much of a choice,” Falcon replied. “It was either stand there and fight, or get hit. I chose to fight.”

“And you like it out here, do you, my dear?” Edwin said to Rachael.

“Yes,” Rachael replied, “I do like it.”

“Maestro, more music!” someone called.

Edwin sighed. “If you will excuse me, I must jump through some hoops now.”

“Mr. Mathias seems to be a bitter man,” Falcon said.

“Edwin Mathias had a taste of glory once,” Rachael replied. “It is always difficult when one falls from glory.”

When the music started, Rachael smiled and offered Falcon her arm. Falcon joined her on the dance floor.

After the dance, Falcon escorted Rachael away from the dance floor. He had just said something funny and they were both laughing when they looked up to see the stern, staring, angry eyes of Wade Garrison confronting his daughter.

“Is it true that you took a walk with Billy Clinton?”

“Pa, it isn’t what you think,” Kathleen said.

“Oh? And tell me, daughter, just what am I thinking?” Garrison replied.

“That we did something wrong,” she answered.

“You went for an evening walk with him, did you not? Without a chaperone?”

“Yes.”

“Then don’t tell me you weren’t doing anything wrong. I wouldn’t approve of that kind of behavior no matter who you were with. But this is much worse. Kathleen, this man is the son of Ike Clinton. Ike Clinton is our sworn enemy, you know that.”

“Billy isn’t like the others.”

“Darlin’, Billy is a Clinton,” Garrison said. “When it gets right down to it, it always comes out the same. He is a Clinton.”

“I love him, Papa.”

“What? What did you say?”

“I said I love him.”

“No, that can’t be.”

“Papa, I can’t help it. This isn’t something I can just turn on and off.”

“Let him go, child, let him go,” General Garrison said gently, putting her hand on her shoulder.

“It’s not fair, Papa,” Kathleen said. “It’s just not fair.”

“Life isn’t fair, darlin’,” Garrison replied. “It never was, and it never will be fair.”