OK...it's the LAST day of my 5-day hiatus at work and I'm busy writing the book this afternoon, but I set this post up to give you one last taste of a historical section that I did the other day. It takes place near the end of March, 1878, when the Regulators met with Alexander McSween at the South Spring Ranch owned by the Cattle King himself, John Chisum. In this scene you have a lot of the Regulators, Susan & Alexander McSween, Montague Leverson, and one Miss Sallie Chisum.
This is the last segment you'll get for awhile so it's a bit longer than the others.
ENJOY!
Tamsin :)
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Dismounting off of Colonel, the black
beauty pranced about and let one of the farm hands of South Spring Ranch take him
for some water, food, and a healthy rub down. Dick let his mare be lead to the
stables along with him and we wandered toward the house. Not even to the gate yet,
we heard the pounding of hooves behind us. Turning, we saw a group of ten men
on horseback coming our way. Dick and I shared a glance of worry, so I cupped
my mouth with my hands and let out a loud whooping call, only to have it
answered in kind by none other than my pal, Charlie Bowdre.
“Looks like the message hit San
Patricio,” Dick said.
“Looks like,” I adjusted my hat and gave him a side glance. “Your secret is safe, Dick. Breathe. They won't be able to tell by just
lookin’ at ya. Now, you start actin’ weird and then they’ll begin to wonder and
ask questions. Just relax.”
“Easier said than done,” he said, and dropped
the topic, walking toward the arriving Regulators with his usual swagger, which
I’d not seen in days.
I looked back at Uncle John’s one story
home to examine it for weaknesses, but found none. The Spanish style ranch was
long and surrounded by a white picket fence that stood no further than ten feet
from the thick, adobe walls that protected all who were inside from attack.
Unlike the common flat rooftops in the region, the Chisum home had an angled
roof, with two chimneys. Both of which currently had smoke furling out of them
likely due to the damp chill in the air that spoke of oncoming rain. The
overhang of the room doubled as a cover for the narrow porch that ran along the
entire front of the building as well.
The sight of the smoke made me eager to
get inside the warm, dry, home, where it was likely Miss Sallie had requested
the cook prepare coffee and cakes for us all. Anxious to head in, I turned my
attention to my arriving compadres. Dismounting from their horses were Charlie,
as suspected, Frank McNab, John Middleton, Fred Waite, Henry Brown, and Big Jim
French. Chavez y Chavez and a few other Mexicans I knew were with the group as
well. Men I trusted and who I knew were good in a fight. It was good to see
them joining the group.
Charlie dismounted, his auburn hair
catching the sun as he took off his hat to resituate it on his head. “There you
two are! Wondered if you’d beat us here.” He clasped hands with Dick. “Good to
see you’re feelin’ better. Billy here told us you were sick as a dog.”
“That I was,” Dick said. “Feelin’ better
now though, mostly.”
“It’s just good to see ya, big man!”
Charlie said before grabbin’ me for a hug that turned into an arm around my
neck that he dragged down toward the ground and taking my hat with whoop before
letting me up. Tossing it to McNab he said, “We thought maybe this one had gotten
the sickness too since he’d not come back to San Pat!”
I walked toward McNab for my hat, “Nope,
just takin’ care of Dick here.”
McNab tossed my hat to Middleton, “You
missed out on some good trainin’.”
I eyed Middleton and my hat. “I will
scale you like the tree you are, John, give me my damn hat!”
“Oh, is this yours?”
Standing my ground I crossed my arms and
raised my eyebrows at him. “I got at least two souls in the chamber so I could
lift a wagon on my own. Give me the hat.”
“Sure thing, kiddo,” Middleton said, his
gruff voice sounding strange with the words as he handed my hat toward me.
As I reached for it he tossed it to Fred
Waite, who was to my left. “If you know what’s good for you, Fred―” I started
to say.
“Boys, stop the lolly-gaggin’ and get in
the house,” Susan McSween yelled out at us. “Alex is waiting on you.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Dick said, opening the
gate of the three foot high picket fence. “Fred?” He motioned giving me the
hat.
Fred grinned and walked up to me,
handing me the hat. I reached for it and he pulled it away, switching hands
before putting it up on his right shoulder, which he hitched up as he leaned
toward me, causing the hat to roll across his shoulders. Grabbing it with his
left hand, he set the hat on top of my noggin’.
“Points for style, Waite,” McNab said
with a laugh as he went through the gate, punchin’ Dick on the shoulder, not
moving the man even an inch. “Ow! You been throwin’ bales of hay while you’ve
been sick? Damn!” He shook his hand and kept moving.
If Dick had been a boulder before, he
was a mountain of strength now. He looked at me with worry and I shook my head
with a laugh to let him know he was being hypersensitive. In retaliation for me
laughing, he hit the top of my hat, indenting my Surgarloaf Sombrero again.
“Damn it, Dick, I just fixed that.”
“I like it that way,” a young lady’s
voice said from the doorway. “That high top looked too formal for the likes of
you, Billy Bonney.”
I looked up to see Sallie standing there
in a pretty blue dress with a white lace pattern at the top. “Why Miss Chisum,
don’t you look lovely, and what for? A bunch of filthy cowboys comin’ in to
dirty up your home?”
She grinned. “You all will be takin’
your boots off as you enter, and you’ll let Miss Lavetta give you all a damp
cloth to wipe your pants and such of dirt, dust, and so on.”
I took my hat off to her as I stepped
behind the adobe wall that blocked the main door. “Really? Better with the
dent?”
“Definitely.”
I hummed in an acknowledging thought as
I nodded, following the rest of the men into the house. Here by the door, each
of the cowboys were workin’ to take their boots off, hopping this way and that.
Trying not to laugh at the sight at all the big touch cowboys jumpin’ around, I
leaned my backside against the wall and pulled my boots off with ease. The
beauty of having small feet and boots that were a bit too big.
Setting them in the corner, I took a
cloth from Miss Lavetta, and wiped the dirt and horse hair from my britches.
Tossing it in a pail she indicated near the door, I walked into the center
room, which was one of eight large rooms in the home that surrounded a patio at
center. However, it was always his dining room that I loved the most. Mostly
because it had a wooden floor and after meals he would have it pulled to the side
and turn the room into a dance floor as others would play instruments.
This was no small feet considering the
table sat twenty-four people. Uncle John would fill plates to capacity each
meal for each person seated in his home to eat. It was one of the evidences of
his hospitality. For he could be a generous man when it came to sharing the
things he had an abundance of due to his successes with his cattle, but in
business he could be ruthless. I suppose one has to be if they are to be the
Cattle King.
No sooner had I walked into the room
than Deputy Sheriff Barrier walked past me with a polite nod, grabbed his
shoes, and was out the door before I could ask where he was going. I threw a
questioning look at Sallie but she just shrugged her shoulders.
Glancing into the main room, my eyes
landed on Alexander McSween first. He sat in a rocking chair near the fireplace
with Susan standing beside to his right, her hand on his shoulder. He patted it
and she smiled down on him, her other hand smoothing out a section of his
bright red hair, which was thinning a bit, but we were never dumb enough to
mention that.
Without knowing if Susan had mentioned
to her husband that Ben and I had been to the house about three weeks ago, I
walked up to her and gave her a peck on the cheek. “Good to see you are back in
town, ma’am.”
McNab actually took her hand and kissed
the top of it, “Good to see you are safely here, Mrs. McSween.”
She, as well as the Regulators sworn by
oath, knew the real meaning of this. We were happy she had made it safely to
the Chisum ranch after suggesting she and Leverson come here to be away from
Lincoln town.
“Thank you, Billy, Frank, it’s good to
be back. Missouri was nice but it’s always nice to be home.”
“I wish you were returning to more
pleasant news,” Dick said.
“Yes, I’m so very sorry to hear about
John’s death, he was a dear friend to us all. Alex here sent me a letter while
I was visiting family to let me know about this and the arrest warrant.”
“We’re not going to let that happen,
ma’am,” Dick said.
She laid a hand on his arm, “I know he
is safe with you keeping an eye on him, Richard.”
Coffee and cakes were served as more
pleasantries and hellos were said, then McSween cleared his throat and started
in. “I’m glad the Regulator Network got messages to you all, as well as me,
last night. Thank you for coming.”
“I’m guessing we’re here either for the
same reason Barrier left or because he did.”
“Deputy Barrier left?” Fred asked.
“Out the door like his behind was on
fire,” I said.
There was squelched laughter through the
room and I mouth the word, “Sorry,” to Alex.
“He has left to be with his family,”
McSween informed us.
“What?” Dick said, and he wasn’t the
only rumblings in the room, just the loudest. “But he’s your assigned
protection until Spring Term of court.”
McSween smoothed his long mustache,
which ran all the way to his jaw line. “He’s been with me non-stop for three
months. He was anxious to return home to his family.”
“Umm...did I miss something?” I said,
“Do you not need protection anymore?”
Susan spoke up. “Captain Smith from Fort
Stanton was here yesterday and gave his word as an officer and a gentleman that
Sheriff Brady would make no attempt to serve the warrant he had for Alex’s
arrest.”
Leverson stepped forward, “I believe his
words were, ‘You may make a football of my head if a hair of his head is
injured or if the least insult be given him by word or sign for the highest to
the lowest, madam.’“
“Is he going to tell Sheriff Brady
that?” Middleton asked.
“No need,” Leverson said, “Brady was
standing right next to the military Captain when he said it.”
This caused the room to burst into
chatter. To hear one of our main enemies had come here just yesterday had us
all very upset, to say the least.
“What was he doing here, and with a
military escort?” Middleton demanded to know.
“It seems he was unable to convince any
civilians to travel with him down to the Pecos Valley to summon veniremen for
grand and petit jury duty. He apologized for showing up with soldiers,”
Leverson explained.
“Oh, well, isn’t that just swell of
him,” I said sarcastically. “Because that makes it all okay.”
“No it doesn’t,” Jim French said,
misunderstanding my meaning.
“I know, Jim, I was just kidding.”
“Oh, okay.”
“That’s why Barrier has left,” McSween
said. “Now that I’ve been promised military protection he headed home. I
would’ve preferred he stayed, but I can understand being away from your wife
and missing her, so I can’t fault him much.” He reached up and took Susan’s
hand from his shoulder and kissed it, letting his eyes stay on her just a
moment before turning back to us. “However, I still believe that as soon as I
arrive in Lincoln that Brady is going to try to arrest me. I called you all
here to say you shouldn’t let him get away with it. For if I am arrested, they’ll
lynch me for sure.”
“So what do you wish we should do,
Governor?” Middleton asked, using a name we’d started to call him since he was
the man in charge of the fight for justice concerning Tunstall on a legal front
as well as the bank roll of the Regulators.
“Seeing as I’m to believe I’m fully
under the protection of the military, I want you boys to head out, as if you’re
no longer acting as my protection either. But I want some of you in Lincoln on
Sunday when I come through town on my way to Fort Stanton to give myself over
to Captain Smith. And if Brady goes against his word to follow Smith’s orders,
you stop him.”
“Are we to kill him, Governor?” Jim
asked.
McSween shook his head. “I’d love
nothing more than to tell you to kill Brady and earn a mighty reward, but I can give no such command.”
It was evident by his tone and facial
expression that what he was really saying was that if we just so happened to
kill Brady to save McSween, we would be rewarded. I knew it and I was sure everyone else in the room knew it. But no one said a word about what he'd said.
Chavez y Chavez stepped forward though, for he had a different issue to address. “Governor, I’m
low on ammunition, sir, and low in the purse, if you get my meaning.”
“I do,” McSween said. “That’s why I want
those of you who go to Lincoln to go into the store and take anything you wish
prior to meeting me there. For those who do not go to Lincoln, I have a bit of
coin for you after we are done here.”
Once we discussed the logistics of his
surrender at Fort Stanton, there wasn’t much more to cover, so McSween
dismissed us. We spent the day at the ranch relaxing, socializing, and getting
a good meal in. However, before it got too late, I mentioned the fandango I’d
heard about that was going on over in Berrendo, a small hamlet east of South
Springs, and suggested we attend.
“A fandango?” Sallie asked with light
laughter. “What is that?”
“You know,” I said, doing a few dance
moves, “It’s a dance. But this one is done in triple time by couples with
castanets.” I snapped by fingers in place of the wooden instrument and took a
silly pose to make her laugh, which she did.
“Oh, Billy, you’ve a weak spot for dance
parties.”
“And for the pretty Latina women who go
to them,” Charlie said quietly.
I hit his arm. “That is not the only
reason I like to go, and you know it.”
“But it is one of them,” Sallie said,
her smile accusing me in a playful manner.
“Might be, but I’ll not admit to such
things in such company.”
Sallie set empty coffee mugs on a tray
Lavetta held as she walked by. “Oh, so you think we ladies don’t know you boys
attend dances to flirt with the skirts?”
“Miss Sallie!” Lavetta said, her tone
mildly astonished.
“Oh please, Lavetta, that wasn’t
nothin’,” Sallie said before looking to me. “So, do you?”
“I’m going to plead the fifth right
about now,” I said, “But you should come with us and see for yourself.”
“Thank you, Billy, that’s sweet of you.
But this time I must stay here and tend to our guests.”
“And tend them well you will, I am
sure,” I said, placing a peck on her cheek. “We will be getting’ out of your
way then.” I gave her a slight bow and headed for my shoes.
She followed me toward the door and
looked down at the pile of boots, most of which were the same make and brand,
and said, “How do you all tell which ones are whose? They all look the same.”
“Well, Dick’s are too big for anyone
other than maybe Middleton so they usually set theirs far apart from each
other,” I said, shoving my foot into one of mine as we watched Fred put a boot
on and take it off again, picking up another. “Or we try on and try again,” I
explained, giving her a big smile before picking up my second one.
“And you know those are yours because
they are smaller than most?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “No, because
I etched my initials inside ‘em,” I told her, showing her the inside of my
other boot.
“Well, look at you, using your smarts,”
she said.
I couldn’t help but beam at her as I put
my second boot on. With a wink I said, “It can happen from time to time, but
don’t get used to it now.”
She laughed and Dick walked up, grabbin’
his big ol’ boots, and said, “We best get going before sunset.”
“Yes, yes we should,” I agreed, and
stepped out the door, turning back to Sallie. “As always, it was good to see
you again, Miss Chisum,” I said with a slight bow, my hat on my chest.
“It’s good to see you too, Mr. Bonney,”
she replied with a small curtsy.
I put on my hat, dent in the top and all, and
walked out, unsure when I’d see her again.
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And that is the end of this segment from another "raw" chapter and the last you'll get for awhile. I hope you've enjoyed these and I will post a few more when I can. Sadly, I cannot share the exciting sections that give away big plot points in my story that revolves around the history, but I'll share what I can.
Take care and maybe at Christmas we'll (Billy, Dick, and I) share something new...until then, stay tuned to the Facebook page for The Curse of Billy the Kid!
Hope you and your family had a great Thanksgiving weekend!
Tamsin :)