“I make it about another hour,” Ike replied.
“Then what do you say we stop by the Bull’s Head and have us a couple of drinks?” Cletus suggested.
Ike shook his head. “I intend that you boys get on that train. There’s a cattle buyer will be in Pueblo, and I aim for you to get us the best offer for our cows I can get.”
“We ain’t goin’ to miss the train, Pa,” Ray said. “And it was a long ride over here from the ranch. Don’t tell me you ain’t got no dust in your mouth that a couple of beers and a whiskey or two wouldn’t do for you?”
“All right, we’ll stop for a drink,” Ike replied. “But I’m goin’ to stay with you till I see you are all three on the train.”
Dismounting in front of the saloon, the four riders looped the reins of their horses over the hitching rail, then went inside. There wasn’t quite room for all four of them to stand at the bar, but Cletus and Ray made room by pushing a couple of men apart to open up a big enough space for them.
“Hey, what the hell do you think you’re doin’, mister?” one of the men said angrily.
“Larry, that’s the Clintons,” a man next to him whispered.
“I don’t care who it is. There don’t nobody—”
Before he could finish his statement, Cletus pulled his pistol and shoved it into the man’s face.
“You complainin’ about somethin’ are you, mister?” Cletus asked menacingly.
The complainer was a good-sized man who was perfectly willing to use his fists to defend his position at the bar. But he wasn’t willing to die for it. He stared at the gun for a moment.
“Sure, mister,” he said. “You want to stand up here that bad, you are welcome to it.” Turning away from the bar, he walked out of the saloon.
“Ha!” Cletus said with a barking laugh. “I sure made him back down, didn’t I?”
Turning around to lean against the bar, Ray looked out over the saloon at the bar girls who were working the customers.
“Hey, Cletus, think we got time to go upstairs with one of these here whores?” Ray asked.
“You ain’t got time to be messin’ with no whores,” Ike said.
“If we don’t go with no whores here, where can we go?” Cletus asked. “The only whores in Higbee that will go with us is the ones in the Hog Waller. None of Maggie’s whores will have anything to do with us.”
Billy laughed.
“What are you laughin’ at?” Cletus asked.
“I’ve heard about men who couldn’t get themselves a woman,” Billy said. “But when you can’t even get a whore, that’s pretty bad.”
“Yeah? Well, I don’t see you havin’ all that much luck with that Garrison girl, now, do I?” Cletus asked.
“What Garrison girl?” Ike asked quickly. “What are you talking about?”
“Nothin’, Pa,” Billy said. “We aren’t talkin’ about anything.”
“The hell we ain’t,” said Cletus. “You been sniffin’ round the general’s daughter like a male dog around a bitch in heat.”
“Boy, tell me that ain’t so,” Ike said. “After what’s goin’ on between Garrison and me?”
“Pa, this is between Kathleen and me,” Billy said. “It doesn’t have anything to do with her pa, or with you.”
“The hell it don’t,” Ike said. He pointed a long, bony finger at Billy. “I don’t want you to be havin’ anything to do with that girl. Do you hear me?”
Billy didn’t answer. Fortunately, he wasn’t required to because Cletus started laughing.
“What are you laughin’ at?” Ike asked.
“I was just thinkin’ about Little Billy here. As far as you’re concerned, he can do no wrong. Only, that ain’t the case no more, is it?”
The sound of a train whistle could be heard in the distance, and Ike tossed down the rest of his drink, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Finish your drinks, boys,” he said. “The train’s a’comin’.”
Relieved that the whistle of the train had interrupted a conversation that was growing increasingly more uncomfortable, Billy finished his beer, then followed his father and brothers out of the saloon.
“Looks like you just lost four of your customers there, Hank,” one of the men standing at the bar said.
Hank, the barkeep, wiped the bar in front of where the Clintons had been standing. “Wouldn’t bother me if they didn’t never come back in here,” he said. “There ain’t a one of ’em worth the powder it would take to blow ’em to hell.”
“Oh, I don’t know. Billy’s all right,” the customer said.
“Yeah, he’s not bad if he’s by himself. Trouble is, he ain’t ever by himself,” George said.
Down at the depot, Ike, Ray, Cletus, and Billy stood on the wooden platform as the train pulled into the station with hissing steam, squeaking brakes, and a clanging bell.
“Ray, I’m countin’ on you to see to it that we get top dollar for our cows,” Ike said to his oldest son.
“All right, Pa,” Ray said.
“And Billy, you seem to have the most sense, so I’m countin’ on you to keep the other two out of trouble long enough to close the deal.”
“I’ll do what I can,” Billy said.
“What about me, Pa?” Cletus said. “What do you want me to do?”
“You’re the worst of the lot,” Ike said without regard as to how Cletus would take that comment.
“What do you mean I’m the worst of the lot?” Cletus asked. He seemed genuinely hurt by Ike’s words.
“You are good with a gun, you’ve got a temper, and you can’t stay away from whiskey or women,” Ike said. He shook his head. “Boy, that ain’t a good combination. I want you to keep your mouth shut when Ray is doin’ business, and listen to what Billy is sayin’ when you’re drinkin’ or messin’ with the whores,” Ike said.
Cletus glared at his father. “You don’t think much of me, do you, Pa?” he asked.
“Not all that much,” Ike replied, again oblivious as to how the words may have sounded to Cletus. “Get on the train now,” he ordered.
Ray laughed. “Pa, you goin’ to get on the train with us to see if we get the seats we’re supposed to?”
Ike shook his head. “I’m hopin’ you got enough sense to do that on your own.”
Higbee
The warm afternoon, the rocking motion of the stage, and the rhythmic sound of horses’ hooves and rolling wheels had combined to put Rachael asleep. She didn’t wake up until the coach came to a stop.
“Higbee, folks!” the driver called down. “This is Higbee.”
“Oh,” Rachael said. “I must’ve fallen asleep.”
“Yes, ma’am, you did,” her fellow passenger said. He was a traveling preacher. “Ordinarily, I get into a good conversation with whoever is riding with me when I make this trip. But you were sleeping so soundly that I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“I’m sorry I was so rude as to fall asleep,” Rachael said.
“Oh, no need to apologize, ma’am,” he said. He pulled out his pocket watch and checked it. “I guess I had better get on down to the church,” he said. “Reverend Owen and the board of deacons are having a meeting and they asked me to come.”
The preacher stepped out of the coach, then reached his hand back to help Rachael down.
“Thank you,” Rachael said.
Rachael stepped up onto the porch of the depot and looked around.
“Can I help you with somethin’, ma’am?” the driver asked. He was standing at the boot, unloading packages as well as Rachael’s suitcase.
“No, I suppose not,” Rachael said. “Someone was supposed to meet me and I was just looking around to see if I could see him.”
At that moment, there was the crash of glass, then a burst of loud raucous laughter from a building across the street.
“What is that building?” Rachael asked.
“Oh, that’s the saloon,” the driver said.
“The saloon?” Rachael replied in a weak voice.
“Yes, ma’am. Here’s your luggage, ma’am.”