Vermijo Read online

  ‘No call for that, Ruby. No call at all.’

  He knew it was her way. Ruby had a fiery temper sometimes and she had no qualms when it came to speaking her mind.

  ‘Heaven’s, Hiram, don’t be so touchy. Anyhow, I’m going now and won’t be back for lunch, but I’ve fixed you a beef sandwich and some pickles. They’re out in the kitchen.’ Silence for a moment, then, ‘Now… that can’t be …can it?’

  For a brief moment, Hiram Tucker was glad his wife had been distracted. He glanced up at her as she paused the doorway, staring down the street like a hawk seeking its prey. He knew the silence wouldn’t last long.

  ‘Hiram, come here.’

  ‘I’m in the middle of shaving B. J. here.’

  ‘And I’m sure B. J. can spare a few moments longer. That right, Mr. Forshaw?’

  ‘Yes, ma’am,’ the ex-newspaper man answered softly, frightened to move his head.

  Hiram touched his customer on the shoulder and said, ‘Be a minute, is all.’

  She waited as long as she could, and said, ‘Hiram …’

  He shook his head in defeat and began walking to the doorway, saying, ‘I don’t know what all the fuss is about, all I want is to finish…’

  ‘Hiram.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Over by Mr. Ripley’s. Isn’t that Eve Lockhart?’

  Her husband didn’t answer, staring intently across the street where a lonely, dejected female figure stood looking in the shop window.

  ‘No, I don’t believe it is. That poor woman looks a wretch. She’s all slumped over, not a lively young thing like Mrs. Lockhart. Nothing like Mrs. Lockhart. No, nothing at all.’

  Ruby Tucker found it hard to ignore the obvious in her husband’s comments, and felt a little hurt by them, too. She said, ‘Well, I’m going over there.’

  ‘I don’t think …’

  ‘That might just be your problem, Hiram. Too slow when it comes to thinking.’

  The taut edge to her words warned Hiram not to take it any further. Ruby Tucker had a strong will and a determination that she hid well…until matters called for their use. It was said that she and Hiram were a mismatched couple but never within earshot. He was a few years older, a man devoted to his business and his wife. Where he was on the heavy side, Ruby had a supple, slimmish build. Striking, with long dark hair and piercing hazel eyes. Not a woman to be trifled with. Before she had married Hiram she had lived an independent life. Smart and with a sound head on her shoulders she had accepted that as an unattached female she needed to settle down to make something from her single life and having a sharp brain and a lively spirit that had got her into a few scrapes during her early life she forced herself to take a step back and refocus. When Hiram Tucker came into her life, first as her employer in his store, then later proposing marriage, Ruby took the step and became Mrs. Ruby Tucker. Their marriage took the town by surprise, but Ruby especially was determined to make the union work. And it did. She and Hiram became a solid pair. Ruby moved from being a paid assistant in the store to becoming Hiram’s right hand. She understood finances and took over the administration side of the business. She was also handy to have behind the counter, able to talk to the female customers in the way only a woman could. And she was not bashful when it came to dealing with male customers, as some knew to their cost.

  ‘I’d better get back to my shaving before B.J. gets fed up and leaves.’

  ‘You do that, dear.’ Ruby said, distracted now.

  She stepped outside and moved to the edge of the boardwalk, calling out as she did.

  ‘Eve? Eve Lockhart. It’s me … Ruby Tucker.’

  Eve turned around slowly as Ruby crossed the street and walked up to her. She lowered her head to avoid eye contact. Ruby Tucker reached out, took the young girl gently by the chin and raised it so she could clearly see her face. Ruby knew what she was going to see but she cringed all the same.

  ‘Oh, my. That eye of yours looks awful sore.’

  ‘Oh...yes. It was silly of me. I was half asleep and … I walked into the door and...’

  Ruby said, ‘Of course you did.’ But almost immediately she lowered her voice and added, ‘How long are you going to let him get away with this, Eve?’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re—’

  ‘Oh, honey. You can talk to me.’

  Eve stepped back into the shade. The bright sunlight was too painful for her … as were the questions she didn’t really want to answer. Or was it the answers that were too painful to face? She didn’t know. She felt confused. It wasn’t as if it was the first time her husband had beaten her, but with each beating he became more violent and the injuries more serious. Her secret visit to Vermijo’s doctor to fix a cracked rib a few months ago remained just that. Compared to that injury, well, the black eye and split lip were minor.

  She said, ‘I don’t see as I can do anything.’

  ‘You could leave him,’ Ruby told her firmly.

  There was a flash of panic in her eye as Eve said, ‘He says I can go any time I like, but he’d never stand for it, I know he wouldn’t.’

  Ruby moved closer. ‘No. Them Lockharts, there’s a lot of things they’d never stand for. But one of these days…’

  ‘One of these days…what?’

  Ruby placed her hand on Eve’s forearm and gave it a reassuring squeeze. ‘One of these days,’ she replied, ‘the menfolk in this town will finally have enough of being pushed around.’

  ‘Maybe they will,’ Eve said miserably. ‘But it’ll be too late for me.’

  ‘Oh, Eve. You got to stay strong.’

  ‘That’s a nice thought.’

  ‘It’s a terrible thing,’ Ruby Tucker said. ‘I just can’t imagine what you go through living with that man. But Ace is—’

  ‘My husband.’

  ‘But the pain he puts you through just ain’t right. Why, he cares more for the bottle than he does for you.’

  The older woman’s words were like a slap across Eve’s face. If it was so obvious to her, Eve thought, then surely it must be obvious to the rest of the town as well. And what were they saying behind her back? She didn’t want their sympathy any more than she cared for their criticism. She felt tears building up.

  She was about to say something else when she saw Ace across the street. He hadn’t seen them yet. He was heading towards the saloon. Automatically, her hand went up to her damaged right eye. There was a sudden tightening in her chest that made it hard to breath. That lasted a couple of beats, then she let out a gasp.

  ‘I…I’m sorry, Ruby…I have to go.’

  ‘Why don’t you come back home with me?’

  ‘No…really…I got to…’

  Then the bag she was carrying bag slipped out of her fingers and thumped onto the sidewalk.

  The noise was loud enough to make Ace look over in their direction. When he saw who it was, he stopped and stared at the two women. He leaned his hip against a post and folded his arms across his chest and glared at them.

  Ruby Tucker saw the fear in Eve’s eyes.

  ‘He can’t hurt you,’ she said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Not here. Not in the open, with witnesses.’

  Eve shook her head.

  ‘I…I’m sorry... I’ve g-got to go...’

  Ruby couldn’t stop Eve as she rushed away from her. She stared across the street, anger showing on her face and Ace looked back at her with an expression that said, I know what you were talking about, lady. With heavy sarcasm he touched the brim of his hat to her and continued on his way.

  Ruby Tucker couldn’t suppress the cold shiver that ran through her body, but damned if she was going to show him just how concerned she was. She stood in defiance of him and watched as he sauntered along seemingly without a care in the world.

  God, how she hated that man. Though she wasn’t a vindictive woman, she thought: One of these days, you and your brothers are gonna reap just what you sow, Ace Lockhart.

  ~*~


  Eve Lockhart was out of breath by the time she reached the church. She hadn’t known where to run after seeing Ace, she only knew that she had to get away from him. The irony wasn’t lost on her that she had ended up at the very place where they had wed. It also seemed a logical place to seek sanctuary…but she hesitated entering the whitewashed clapboard place of worship.

  Unable to enter the church, she stumbled around to the side, out of view of the main drag, and leaned against the wall, hugging her bag to her breasts. She fought to stave off more tears and found that her hand was shaking when she raised it to her eyes. The fact that Ace filled her with such complete, all-consuming terror made her angry. How much longer could she suffer such mental torture? How many more times would she wake each morning in fear of what her husband might do to her? It was getting harder and harder for him to conceal his hate for her…most of the time these days he didn’t even try.

  Seconds later her chin trembled and the tears came freely. There was nothing she could do to stop them.

  How long are you going to let him get away with this, Eve?

  Ruby Tucker’s voice forced its way into her thoughts.

  The wind picked up and blew little dust devils across the ground. Eve watched the patterns dance away. And in her mind Ruby’s voice asked again:

  How long? How long? How long?

  ~*~

  Luke Tyler walked his horse down the dusty, main street of Vermijo.

  He came into town from the south and rode easy in the saddle. He looked around him and thought that it was bigger than he remembered, but then he’d only been there once before, and that had been many years ago when he was just a child. The street was lined with a mixture of wood and adobe buildings advertising the local trades. It ran on an upward slope north to a whitewashed church with a bell tower and a picket fence surrounding it. The trail beyond that headed to a valley on the other side. That was the track he was aiming to take.

  The townsfolk were going about their business. One or two looked up at the lone rider with perfunctory interest, others looked and then went on their way. Luke smiled and tipped his hat to a couple of women. He saw a young man sitting on a barrel outside the hardware store, using a bowie knife to whittle a length of wood. He stopped to stare at the newcomer. The man’s face was steely and sullen. They exchanged silent nods and Luke continued on his way.

  To his right a big boned-dog was keeping parallel with him. It moved from doorway to doorway, keeping clear of humans as much as it could. It didn’t look threatening and this was made clear when it stopped, cocked a hind leg and urinated on a post. Tyler smiled, thinking: Yeah, boy. That’s about all this place appears to be worth.

  Tyler decided that what he needed right now was a long cool drink to cut the dust from his throat. He stopped at the first saloon he came to.

  Walking inside was like stepping into a cool cave that was a world away from the furnace heat outside. It was typical of all the saloons he’d ever been into. Built along one side of the room, a bar ran for twelve or fifteen feet. There was a display of liquor bottles lined up neatly on wooden shelves in front of a pitted mirror. There were two large windows either side of the batwings that let in enough light to prevent the place from looking gloomy. Another was built into the saloon’s side wall. The bartender was tall and lanky and looked as if didn’t have the strength to lift a bottle, let alone a beer keg. He had a piece of paper in his hand and was biting the end of a pencil. Luke watched him as he finished a calculation before he looked up at his customer.

  He said, ‘Howdy. Welcome to the Silver Lode, stranger. What can I get you? Got some good whiskey or some French brandy, if you’d prefer. Or there’s a new batch of beer just brewed.’

  ‘Gimme a beer,’ Luke said.

  He glanced around the saloon. There was just one other person sitting at a table to the left of the door, a half-full bottle of whiskey in front on him. Dressed in a dark jacket over a collarless white shirt, he looked tired and worn, and rolled his shot glass in his palms between sips.

  It was Ace Lockhart.

  Ace had made his first patrol of town but there was nothing that required his attention. There never was, these days. They had this town locked down tight and though it paid well, the days could be long and tedious.

  Today was promising to be one such day.

  He thought that was probably why he’d started drinking more. There’d always been a mean streak in him – there was in all the Lockharts – but in Ace it had been stronger and ran deeper. He needed confrontation; it was the only thing that really reminded him he was still alive. Facing a trouble-maker, imposing his will on theirs, he enjoyed it. He knew there was something dark in him, but he made no effort to curb it because he liked it too much.

  But days like this, with his head still aching from last night’s drunk. Lord, that was when the restlessness in him really came to the fore. The drink helped a little. But still the restlessness ate away at him, made his flesh crawl, and if he didn’t find a way to relieve it soon he felt like he might explode.

  ‘Where is everyone?’ Tyler asked the bartender.

  Before the bartender could reply, Ace heard himself slurring, ‘It’s the middle of the morning, kid. All the decent folks are working.’

  The bartender, Bob Miller, stared at him with an expression that was difficult to read, then placed the beer on the counter and said, ‘That’ll be five cents, kid.’

  As he paid for the drink, Luke said, ‘Even so, I’ve seen livelier cemeteries.’

  Ace ignored that. ‘What brings you to Vermijo, anyway?’ he asked.

  ‘Oh, just passin’ through, is all.’

  ‘To…?’

  Luke concentrated on his beer, almost finishing it in one long gulp.

  ‘That cut the trail dust from your throat?’ asked the bartender.

  ‘For sure. I’ll have another.’

  ‘Right you are.’

  ‘I asked you a question,’ prodded Ace.

  ‘That any business of yours, mister?’

  Ace shrugged. ‘It is if I say it is.’

  Luke hesitated momentarily. But he didn’t want trouble, so he said, ‘Rojas. Satisfied?’

  The bartender placed the refill in front of Luke and risked another glace over at the drunk. ‘On the house, mister.’

  ‘Appreciated.’

  ‘Hey, Bob,’ the man called to the bartender. ‘Your name might be on the deeds to this place, but don’t go throwing your money away. ’Specially to likes of him.’

  The bartender named Bob said, ‘You ain’t got no reason to worry, Ace. You and your brothers’ll get yours come the end of the month.’

  Tyler picked up the mug and drank another mouthful of beer, wondering what that was supposed to mean. Then he gave a mental shrug: whatever it was, it was no concern of his. He just wanted to enjoy his beer in peace, although the man called Ace wasn’t having any of that.

  ‘Don’t get cocky with me, Bob Miller. Otherwise…’

  Miller held up his hands placatingly, then returned to his work. Lockhart topped up his glass and shot back the whiskey in one go. He turned his attention back to the drifter.

  ‘You got a familiar look, kid,’ he said.

  Luke let go an irritable sigh. ‘Jeez. Don’t you ever give up, mister?’

  ‘I seen you before, ain’t I?’

  ‘I doubt that.’

  ‘You got any paper out on you?’

  ‘You mean am I wanted?’ Luke answered. ‘No, sir.’

  Ace showed his teeth in a tight, cold smile. ‘Well, you wouldn’t admit to it even if you was, now would you?’

  Luke was usually pretty composed when it came to trouble, able to find some inner strength to stay calm. It was something his father had taught him. Son, there’ll be times in your life when folk are going to be mean, just because they can. That’s when your temper’ll get the best of you and you’ll let loose the tiger. But you gotta learn to cage that beast. Find someplace deep inside you and lock it
in.

  He looked for that place now.

  ‘Listen, mister,’ he said, turning at the waist. ‘I don’t know you from Adam, and I sure don’t like the idea of you calling me a liar. Be told, will you? I don’t know you, you don’t know me, and I ain’t got no paper out on me.’

  But still the room was filled with tension. Somewhere a clocked ticked out the seconds, the sound loud in the stillness. The sun seemed to creep into the room, burning off the coolness Luke had first felt when he came in.

  Ace poured himself another shot of whiskey and knocked it back in a single swallow. He dropped the glass onto the table and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. All the while he had his eyes fixed on Tyler, measuring him from tip to toe. Tall, lean and in his early twenties, face streaked with dirt and dust and dressed in travel-stained clothing, gun sitting in a holster on his hip. Lockhart pegged him as a no account drifter.

  He could take him.

  ‘Know something, kid?’ he said. ‘I think otherwise.’

  He walked slowly from out behind the table and onto the floor of the saloon. He planted himself in front of the batwings, blocking off the exit. He swayed a little but held his place. The bright white light backlit him.

  ‘What’s your name, kid? Your real name, I mean?’ he asked

  ‘To hell with you and your questions.’

  ‘Tough hombre, huh? Well, I can be pretty tough myself.’

  Luke didn’t want to get into a pissing contest with this drunk but he had to warn him to back off.

  ‘Look, mister, I don’t know what your problem is, but I don’t want trouble, you hear? You need another drink? Hell, I’ll buy you a beer if it’ll shut you up.’

  ‘Know somethin’, kid? I don’t give a good goddamn what you want. But I know for sure what you’re gonna get.’

  Luke glanced at the bartender. Miller had the pencil back in his mouth, tapping it against his top teeth. He knew how this was going to go down, had seen it all before, and on more than one occasion. Miller had a flashback to a time when Ace Lockhart shot a miner. He remembered Lockhart’s ghoulish grin as the miner writhed on the floor. The .45 slug had jammed in his meaty thigh and blood pumped from the wound. And all over what? Ace had said the man had cussed out his mother.