The old man paused to snort. He would have spit, but he didn't think Miss Mary would appreciate it.
"Where are they now?"
"Inside the saloon. They're itching to leave though. Henry's running out of questions to ask, and you know how Ghost is. Ever since he started making his own brew he's been acting real funny. It takes him a long time to figure out what folks are talking about. He can't concentrate is what it is, cause he's got all them spirits talking to him all the time. Course, getting hit by lightning didn't help him none, but I'm still saying he'd be right in the head if he'd stay away from liquor. Miss Mary, where are you dragging me?"
"To the saloon."
"You aren't thinking about going inside, are you?"
"If I have to, I will," she said. "I've got to put a stop to this."
They were running down the walkway. Dooley was soon out of breath. "Let me fetch your brothers, Miss Mary," he begged between gasps. "You wait right here."
Mary Rose saw the wisdom in getting some assistance. She agreed to wait and had only just sat down on a bench outside of the warehouse when Bickley and his cohorts strutted outside. Their horses were waiting, their reins tied to the hitching posts in front of the saloon.
She didn't dare wait any longer. She prayed to God the men weren't liquored up. She didn't know Bickley but she'd heard stories about him, and none of them were worth repeating. His appearance was every bit as nasty as his character. He had long, stringy, brown hair and beady eyes. He looked like a sneak, she thought to herself, and from all accountings, that's exactly what he was. Bickley was only a couple of inches over five feet. Adam said he was a little man trying to be big.
"Bickley? Might I have a word with you?"
Mary Rose stood on the corner of the walkway and waited for the leader to acknowledge her. She hoped he would come over to her alone and that his friends would wait by the doors of the saloon.
He turned at the sound of her voice. He gave her a grin, squinted his eyes against the sunlight, and sauntered over to her. She was sorry to see his friends followed him.
"What might I do for you, Miss Mary?"
Bickley was sour from the stench of liquor and old sweat. She wasn't surprised he knew her name. There were so few women living in Blue Belle that all the men who lived in the town and in the surrounding area knew who the women were. She was even known as far away as Hammond.
"Are you and your companions going up to Boar Ridge?"
"That's where we're headed, all right. We're going to burn out that crazy woman before she kills someone. We respect the law, and since Blue Belle don't have a sheriff, I figure it's our duty to take care of things around here."
I can't imagine why you would think anyone around here is your responsibility," she said. "You live in Hammond, not Blue Belle. We take care of our own here."
She wanted to tell him to go back where he belonged and start minding his own business, but she didn't offer the suggestion for fear she'd antagonize him into doing something rash.
"There's a sheriff in Hammond," he said. "He don't want my help. Folks around here will be more… appreciative."
One of his cohorts chuckled. Mary Rose diligently tried to control her temper. She took a deep breath and then tried to reason with the vile creature.
"Just yesterday I went up to the ridge and had a nice long visit with the dear woman. Corrie isn't crazy. She's shy. She doesn't like outsiders trying to pry into her life. No one does. Corrie only likes people who live around Blue Belle."
"You're trying to keep us from doing our duty, aren't you?"
"Corrie is my friend. I want you to leave her alone." Her tone had taken on a hard edge.
"I don't have to listen to you. I got my mind set. Don't I, boys?" Mary Rose couldn't keep her temper contained another second. "If you bother that sweet woman, I shall personally go to Judge Burns and sign a petition. I'll charge every single one of you with attempted murder, and my friends in Blue Belle will appreciate watching you hang."
Bickley didn't cotton to being threatened. Especially by a woman. Liquor made him forget all about the Clayborne brothers. It was time someone took the uppity bitch in hand. He was just the man to see the duty done. He would shake some sense into her and have her quaking with fear in no time at all.
"Who do you think you are to talk to me like that?" he asked in a shout that caused spittle to drip down his chin.
"I'm a woman who knows an ignorant fool when she sees one." she replied.
Bickley wasn't overly intelligent, but he was certainly quick. Before she realized his intent, he grabbed hold of her upper arm, squeezed hard, and tried to pull her toward him. She kicked him soundly in his leg, right below his kneecap. Pain shot up into his thigh. He used the back of his hand and struck her across the face, and when she didn't cry out, he used his fist to hit her again.
"Are you plumb loco, Bickley?" one of his friends asked in a nervous whisper. "Let go of her before her brothers start shooting."
"I ain't letting go of her until she begs me real nice. I'm hurting her all right. I know I am. I'm gonna keep squeezing her arm until I snap her bone clear in half if she don't start telling me how sorry she is for sassing me. If her brothers try to stop me, I'll shoot every one of them. Just see if I don't."
Mary Rose had been temporarily stunned by the attack, but she quickly recovered. She could taste blood in her mouth and knew the corner of her lip had been torn. Her chin felt wet too, and she thought blood was pouring down from the injury. She didn't waste time worrying about it. Her mind had cleared sufficiently for her to remember what her purpose was. She was going to keep Bickley from going up on the ridge, no matter what the cost. She kicked the horrible man once again, much, much harder this time, and when he doubled over, she used her fist to knock him clear off his feet. Adam had always told her she had a mean left hook. She meant to prove she was worthy of the compliment.
She expected Bickley to let go of her, but he held tight until he had almost hit the ground. Then he sent her flying into one of the hitching posts. She struck the side of her head and collapsed to the ground.
She was knocked unconscious. She awakened a minute or two later, with pain exploding inside her head. She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on making the throbbing inside her skull stop. There was a horrid roaring sound ringing in her ears.
She couldn't make it go away. The sound intensified, even after she'd opened her eyes and her vision began to clear. She thought she was feeling better because she wasn't seeing sparkling lights everywhere. Men were suddenly tripping over her to get to their horses. One man kicked her in the stomach. She cried out and doubled over and tried to roll onto her side. Another man used her hip as a stepping stool in his haste to get up on his horse. He tore her skirt with his spurs.
She was still in too much of a daze to protect herself. It was a miracle she wasn't trampled to death by the horses or the cowards trying to run away. She couldn't seem to make her eyes stay open. She felt someone lift her, and then her mind went black again. She floated between darkness and light for several minutes, and when she next awakened, everyone was running away. She sat up just in time to see Bickley kick his horse into a full gallop. She tried to stand up, thinking she had to go after him before he hurt Corrie, and she almost made it to her knees, but what happened next so surprised her, she fell back on her bottom again.