Winterborn Ch. 02

Dillon felt sorry for Jones. He remembered what Tom had told him that sometimes the cattlemen lost their bet. He thought for a minute; since no one was actually hurt he came up with an idea. Dillon knew that Tom tried to help the men driving the herds when possible. It really wouldn't do anyone any good to keep the hands in jail. Dillon told Jones to wait for him in the saloon.

He went back to the church to talk to Pastor Jennings. The pastor was sitting in the front pew of the church; he still looked a little shaken. "How're you feeling Pastor? Want me to send for the doctor?"

Jennings looked up at Dillon. "No, I'll be okay." He hesitated and said, "I didn't act very Christian toward you earlier this week, did I Deputy? I'm sorry and thank you for saving me tonight."

"Pastor Jennings, I need a favor. Those men are part of a herd heading to San Antonio and their boss, Carl Jones, really needs them to help drive the herd. Jones is just a rancher trying to make a living for his family," Dillon explained. "If you don't press charges against them, I can get the Marshal to let them leave with the herd."

Dillon saw that the pastor didn't like the idea of letting the men go. "Those drunkards should be punished for what they did," Jennings said.

"Maybe so Pastor but they're not outlaws or hard cases; they're just young and foolish and drunk.....Didn't Jesus say something about turning the other cheek Pastor?" Dillon smiled and Jennings nodded. "And didn't he say you should pray for those that mistreat you?"

"Your knowledge of the Scriptures surprises me Mr. Gallagher," Jennings answered nodding again.

"My mother made me go to bible class every Wednesday evening until I left for college," Dillon explained. "I guess some it stuck in my hard head."

He hesitated and asked, "Would letting them go make you feel better Deputy?"

"Yes sir. I don't especially care about them but Mr. Jones has a lot riding on getting his herd to market. He doesn't deserve to lose everything because of a couple of drunks."

Jennings looked at Dillon for a bit and replied, "Tell the marshal that I'm not going to press charges and let the men go."

"Thanks Pastor. I'll go take care of it right now." Dillon stood and offered his hand to Jennings.

When Dillon got back to the saloon he had the three men with him. "Here you go Mr. Jones. Get them out of town before I change my mind," Dillon suggested.

Jones shook hands with Dillon and turned to his men. "Get yourselves back to camp." He yelled at the rest of his crew, "Y'all go with them. I want you to be able to sit a horse tomorrow morning." Turning back to Dillon he added, "It was real nice of the pastor to let them off. I'll see that they don't get off too easy, you have my word on it."

Dillon smiled, "I got a feeling they're gonna wish they had stayed in jail."

Reaching into his coat pocket, Jones pulled out a draw string bag. He took some gold coins out and handed them to Dillon. "See that the pastor gets this. It's a donation for his church, and thanks for your help Deputy." He followed his men out the door.

Dillon went back to the church hoping to catch Pastor Jennings still there. The pastor was cleaning the front of the church where the cowboys had made a mess.

"Pastor, I've got another question about the Bible," Dillon said with a smile. Jennings nodded and waited for Dillon's question.

"Isn't there something in the Bible about 'Cast your bread upon the waters, for thou shall find it after many days'. Is that right?"

"Again you surprise me Deputy. Yes the quote is from Ecclesiastes," Jennings answered.

"I guess you letting those three drunks go and helping Mr. Jones could be considered casting your bread. It hasn't been days but it's been returned to you," Dillon said as he handed the pastor two $10 gold eagles. "From Mr. Jones for the church." Dillon smiled at the look on the pastor's face.

Pastor Jennings watched Dillon ride away and said softly, "God bless you Deputy."

The Marshal had been at another of the saloons calming down some rowdy cowboys; Dillon looked up as Tom came into the office. "Damn cow hands cause a lot of trouble when they get drunk; and they always get drunk as fast as they can," Tom said with a laugh. "So how's your night been so far?"

Dillon smiled as he told Tom about the disturbance at the church and how he handled the problem. "Hope I did right, Tom. No one was hurt, except for Jennings' pride and you always said cow hands in jail don't help anyone."

Tom listened to Dillon's story. "I think you did just right. I know Carl Jones, he's a good man. Good job Deputy Gallagher."

*******************

Emma and Dillon had never really talked about the future; they just enjoyed their time together in the present. Shortly after the events at Pastor Jennings' church, Dillon moved into Emma's bedroom. Everybody in town knew they were living as man and wife so it made no sense to run back and forth between rooms.

They had been together for several months when Emma brought up the differences in their ages. Dillon just waved his hand and shook his head indicating he didn't want to talk about it. "No need to talk about something that's not important," Dillon said and refused to discuss the subject anymore.

Another two months went by and Emma brought up the age difference again. This time she wouldn't be deterred. "Dillon, I'm ten years older than you and I'd understand if you wanted to meet a younger woman. A woman that could give you children and make a home and a family with you."

Dillon refused to be drawn into the talk and finally pulled Emma onto his lap and kissed her to keep her quiet. Emma never spoke about the subject again. Maybe I don't love Emma the way a man and woman should if they were to get married but I like our life and see no reason to change it Dillon said to himself, at least for right now.

The next day he sat at the desk in the Marshal's office drinking coffee. I can't believe I've been in Wichita Falls for almost two years Dillon thought. Never thought I'd stay in one place that long; Course Emma had something to do with me staying.

Funny, Tom's talking about running for Mayor in the next election and he wants me to take over as marshal. Never thought I'd be a law dog deputy, much less a marshal. I'm not sure I want the responsibility; I'm not even sure I want to be here for much longer. This is a good town with good people but I'm not sure it's where I should stay. I need to make a decision; it's not right to have people counting on me being here.

Before he could continue with his thoughts, Tom entered the office and poured a cup of coffee, joining his deputy at the desk.

"Think of the Devil and up he jumps," Dillon said smiling at his boss. "Just thinking about you being the Mayor. It'll be funny to see you strutting around in fancy clothes, putting on airs like you were a real gentleman."

"I'm not Mayor yet and I'll wear just about what I do now. Anyway you're one to talk with that frock coat and string ties you wear," Tom replied with a grin.

"The difference is that I am a gentleman Tom. My commission from VMI sez so."

Tom laughed, "Y'all head on back to Emma. It's my turn to protect the good citizens of our fair town."

As Dillon walked to the boarding house he thought about the friends he'd made in those two years. Emma, Tom and Juanita were at the top of the list, but there were others. Charley the bartender, Sam the gunsmith, even Pastor Jennings were people he considered friends. They made what he was thinking of doing a lot harder.

After the events at the church with the drunken cowboys, Jennings became a supporter of the young deputy. Dillon laughed when he heard Jennings' reaction every time one of the do-gooder men or women of the church complained or gossiped about Emma and Dillon living in sin. Jennings would say, "Let he who is without sin, cast the first stone." Sometimes the verse was, "Judge not, least ye be judged." And to one busybody who continued to try and stir up trouble, Jennings said, "Mrs. Johnson, mind your own business."

Dillon entered the boarding house and made his way to the kitchen. As usual Emma had his supper warming in the oven. As he sat down to eat, Emma came in and joined him. She poured him a cup of coffee as he finished eating and sat back down.

"I received a telegram today from my sister, Rose," Emma told him. "She lives in New Orleans you know. Or maybe you don't, I haven't talked much about my family back there."

He saw the sadness in her eyes and waited for her to continue. I don't think this is gonna be good news, he thought.

"She needs my help; her husband died of the fever three months ago and she's trying to run the family business. My mother is ailing and Rose needs help taking care of her."

"When are you leaving?" Dillon asked with no expression on his face.

"Dillon, I'm sorry but I have to go help take care of my mother. Please don't hate me."

"I could never hate you Emma," Dillon said with a sad smile. He hesitated and asked again, "When are you leaving?"

"In about three weeks." About few seconds in a soft voice she added, "You could come with me Dillon. I'd love for you to meet my family."

Dillon hung his head and then looked up at Emma. "Wouldn't work. Besides, I don't belong back there anymore."

"You could belong if you wanted to," Emma said.

"I couldn't stand the carpet baggers or Northern regulators telling me what to do. I couldn't stand seeing what Northern Reconstruction is doing to the South. One of them would push me too far and I'd have to kill them. You'd be drug down with me Emma."

Dillon paused and continued to look at Emma; she gave him a smile and motioned for him to continue.

"The last time I talked to my father, he said I was a coward for not staying in Richmond and doing what was good for the family. Maybe he was right. But I can't go back there."

Emma smiled again, got up and hugged him. "Dillon, you're more than welcome to come with me, but I understand why you can't. She paused, "We both knew we wouldn't be together forever. But you've made the last two years wonderful. Thank you."

That night was the most tender and loving that they had spent together since their very first one. Dillon fought with confliction emotions about the end of their time together. He was sad that he and Emma wouldn't see each other again; on the other side he was glad that he hadn't had to tell her he was leaving Wichita Falls.

The next two weeks were a whirlwind of activity. Emma had to pack the things she was taking with her. Most of the things she was leaving were given to Pastor Jennings to distribute to needy families. It was a bittersweet time for Dillon and Emma; both headed in different directions with their lives but both hanging on to each other as long as possible.

At the beginning of Emma's last week, Dillon asked, "What are you going to do with the boarding house?"

"I'm selling it to Juanita, well Juanita and Tom. She said she'd like to do something besides sit around home waiting for Tom. So we made a deal on the place and they'll take over the day that I leave. By the way Juanita said you could keep your room," Emma said. She added with a big grin, "But you won't have the same benefits."

She kissed Dillon quickly and then soberly said "When are you leaving Dillon?"

"I talked to Tom the day after you told me you were going home. Leaving the day after you do," he replied.

Emma looked surprised. "That soon?"

"You're the only reason I've stayed this long. Without our..." Dillon smiled and continued, "Shall we call it our friendship? Anyway, without our friendship I would have left about a year ago."

"Where will you go? I guess more importantly, what are you looking for?"

"I guess I'll join up with a herd headed to Abilene; I'm interested to see where all those herds were going. As far as what I want, I can't really explain it." Dillon paused, "I guess I want somewhere to belong, I want to make a place for myself. I'll know it when I find it."

**************

Emma's last week in town passed too quickly for both her and Dillon. The last morning they rode out to the cemetery so Emma could say good bye to Jamie. She would take a stage coach to Fort Worth and get a train to head east from there. After a tearful good bye, Emma boarded the stage and rode out of Dillon's life.

Dillon had supper with Tom and Juanita one last time. Juanita tried to convince him to stay but Tom understood why Dillon needed to leave. After supper sitting on the porch with cigars Tom said, "I'm sorry Emma left and I'm sorry you're leaving. I thought you'd found a home."

Dillon smiled a little and quoted:

"It is the same! - For, be it joy or sorrow,
The path of its departure still is free:
Man's yesterday may ne'er be like his morrow;
Nought may endure but Mutablilty.

"I'm an educated man," Tom said. But I don't recognize that. And I'm not sure what it means."

Dillon chuckled and said, "They neglected your education at Austin College. The quote's from Shelley. It means that the only thing that stays the same is that everything changes."

The next morning Dillon was surprised to see that Charley, Sam, and Pastor Jennings came to say good bye. Dillon mounted, waved so long and rode to catch up to the herd. He had gotten a job as a cow hand the day before.

****************

The range boss, Ray Fleming, had his hands rotate through the different positions on the drive. Each man took his turn at point, flank, and drag. This gave the men a challenge and kept them from getting complaisant at their jobs. The lone exception was Teddy Sixkiller, a half breed Comanche. Teddy rode point every day; he was the best scout and could find water that others would miss.

It would take a little over a month to drive the cattle the almost four hundred miles to Abilene. Just over half way they crossed into Kansas. Dillon was riding point that morning with Teddy. The two men talked and learned from each other; they were becoming friends. Dillon had ridden with a couple of Cherokees during the war but found that the Comanche were very different. He had learned some sign language from the Apaches down in Nuevo Laredo so most of their discussion was augmented by sign language. It was good practice for Dillon.

Dillon had been looking around as they rode and talked. He pulled his horse to a sudden stop and seemed to be listening for something. "Hear that? " Teddy nodded and Dillon said, "Why don't you ride back and tell Mr. Fleming we've got company. There's a group of riders behind that hill yonder. I'll do a little more scouting."

Without a word, Teddy turned and rode hard back toward the oncoming herd. Nice to have someone that can follow orders without a lot of explanation Dillon thought. He walked his horse quietly to his right around the base of the hill. Coming to a small clearing in the scrub oak he dismounted and went ahead on foot.

Peaking around a rock outcropping he saw about a dozen horses and riders. They weren't mounted and Dillon heard one of the men say they'd charge the herd from behind when it passed the hill. Dillon knew that if the men rode into the rear of the herd shooting and yelling that the cattle would stampede; it would be tough to stop them once they got to running.

Dillon made his way back to his horse; he planned on riding back to the herd to talk to Mr. Fleming. Maybe we should stop the herd where it is and wait the raiders out, he thought. When he got back to his horse, Teddy was waiting for him. Now that there were two of them, Dillon had an idea. He signed what he wanted to do and Teddy nodded his agreement.

Both men mounted and walked their horses to the rear of the rustler's camp. Dillon nodded and he and Teddy rode hard toward the men, yelling and firing their pistols in the air. Their actions had the desired effect, the men ran for cover without returning fire. Most of the horses ran away from the yelling and gunshots; their escape left all but two of the raiders on foot. The two mounted men didn't look back; they rode away as if the Devil himself was on their heels.

Four of the cowhands, including Mr. Fleming rode around the other side of the hill and confronted the rustlers hiding in the scrub brush. Only one man tried to make a fight of it; unfortunately for him, the man he chose to aim his gun at was Dillon. The young Virginian wasted no time and shot the raider in the chest. The man dropped to the ground and didn't move. He was dead before he hit the ground Dillon said to himself.

"What do we do with them now?" Fleming asked, looking at Dillon.

The three hands that came in with Fleming wanted to hang or shoot the captured rustlers and said so loudly.

Fleming looked at Dillon and shrugged; he wasn't sure what to do. The herd was in the middle of nowhere with the closest town a two day ride one way. If Fleming held the herd while a few of his hands took the prisoners to town, it would delay their arrival in Abilene by several days. Or the other hand the range boss didn't want to shoot the men down in cold blood.

"Mr. Fleming, I suggest we disarm them and leave them on foot. If they find their horses it's not likely they'll follow after us with no guns," Dillon said. Then he grinned and added, "I think they've had all they want to do with this herd."

The range boss nodded and ordered his men to take the raiders guns. Dillon and Teddy stayed to guard the raiders while Fleming and the others went back to the herd. About 20 minutes later the cattle passed by the hill and Dillon and Teddy rejoined them continuing on the trail to Abilene.

Twelve days later Dillon got his first look at Abilene. Fleming had the herd put in holding pens and went to meet with the buyers. That night Fleming met his men in one of the numerous saloons in Abilene. Dillon met Fleming and the crew for one reason; it was payday. He had spent too long calming cowboys down in Wichita Falls to become one of the partiers now.

"Thank you Mr. Fleming," Dillon said when he got his pay.

"Why don't you come back to my ranch Dillon? I could use a good hand," Fleming offered.

"No sir. I think I'll stay here and let my horse rest a little and then I'm headed for Amarillo. There are some folks I want to see there," Dillon replied while shaking Ray's hand. He left the saloon before the cowboys could build up a head of steam. Have fun boys, he thought. But stay out of trouble. The two years as a deputy was showing.

The next evening Dillon was leaving a café after supper and saw a commotion in front of a building at the end of the street. Probably should go back to the hotel, he told himself. Instead he walked over to see what was going on. The building was the marshal's office and jail. Standing in front of it was a very young Deputy Marshal facing ten or twelve angry men.

One of the men confronting the deputy shouted, "No need for you to get hurt Ned. Bring Scruggs out and we'll be on our way."

"Can't do that Jim. Scruggs will get a fair trial and then he'll hang," the deputy responded.

"We know he'll hang, we just want to save the cost of a trial."

"Marshal Hickok would have my hide if I gave up his prisoner and I'm more afraid of him than I am of you. Just go on home boys, don't make a mistake here tonight."

"We gonna get Scruggs, with or without your help. You can't stop us all Ned."

Dillon stepped closed and to one side of the mob gathered in front of the jail. Pulling his pistol he said, "Maybe not Mister, but between the two of us we can make it real expensive."

The surprised men turned at Dillon's voice and saw him with a drawn pistol. The bearded man that had been threatening the deputy asked, "Why are you dealing yourself a hand in this?"

"Let's just say I don't like mob rule and leave it at that," Dillon answered. "If you try and take that prisoner more than half of you are going to die. You got to ask yourself if you want this Scruggs character bad enough to die for."