Chapter Nine
Katelyn really hustled and had their camp completely broke and their belongings all packed away in record time. Well within the time that was allotted. So it was just about ten minutes later when she jumped down with Jamie to go inform the Marshal that they were ready to pull out--as per his request.
The Marshal's prisoner was still out cold, and they found him still cuffed to the spokes of their right front wheel.
The Marshal had apparently solved the problem of how to fix their wagon's back right wheel, for they found him harnessing up their team of draft horses.
Katelyn had tried to fix the wheel herself. But she couldn't get the heavy jack to lift their heavy wagon high enough so that the hole in the center of her heavy spare wheel would line up with the axle. She saw that the Marshal's solution was a simple one. Instead of raising the wagon, he had lowered the ground. The Marshal had scraped the mud and dug the earth away from beneath the wheel until the hole in its center and the wagon's axle lined up. Then he had wriggled the wheel into proper position--with the aid of copious amounts of axle grease--and locked it in place. It must have been no easy task for him and his sore ribs to wrestle with that very heavy wheel all by himself. A strange look suddenly came over Katelyn. She gasped in utter exasperation again and went storming up to the 'man' harnessing their horses.
"I kin manage here," the man told her as he finished with one harness and carefully reached for another, "You an' Jamie get back in the wagon."
"Of all the prou-oud...pigheaded...!" Katelyn exclaimed, sounding enraged. Then she stopped and stood there looking almost too flustered for words. "I don't believe you! Why did yah have ta waste all a' that time an' effort ta try an' get him ta help yah?! Why did yah have ta put yerself through all a' that pain an' me through all a' that misery?! When yah could a' jes' fixed it yerself in the first place?!" she demanded, looking and sounding justifiably angry and upset.
Crown carefully heaved the incredibly heavy harness rigging in his arms up onto one of the incredibly tall horse's incredibly high backs. Then he carefully lowered his arms and carefully released his held breath so he could comment--carefully. "Why do you 'women' always have ta ask so darn many questions?" he inquired calmly, answering her good question with a rather good question of his own.
"Maybe it's because--unlike you 'me-en'--WE don't 'presume' ta HAVE ALL THE DARN ANSWERS!" Katelyn shouted, her dark eyes smoldering with defiance. Then, after swirling around, she and Jamie went storming off in a huff--and in the general direction of their covered wagon.
The Marshal pondered the red-hot lady's red-hot reply over carefully--with one slightly raised eyebrow. Whew! She was hot! Why he could almost see the trail of steam left behind in the woman's wake. Things seem to be heating up and getting more 'mystifyin'' by the moment around there.
Speaking of moments...
He didn't have one to lose. So he gave his mystified mind a quick shake and went back to work. Hadn't he told her he was no angel?
After he finished harnessing the horses, the Marshal hitched them up to the wagon. Next, he uncuffed his still unconscious prisoner, carted him over to the back of the wagon, dumped him inside and climbed up to finish stowing him away. Then he dragged both of his horses over to the back of the wagon and slipped their saddles and bridles off. Finally, after stowing his gear inside, he tied his borrowed horse to the wagon's tailgate and allowed Lancer to just roam free.
"What did yah do with yore prisoner this time?" Katelyn wondered, trying very hard to be civil to the 'proud' and 'pigheaded' man who carefully hauled himself up and carefully plopped himself down beside her and Jamie in the driver's seat of their wagon.
The Marshal set his rifle down and then just sat there for a few moments, one hand clutching the two sets of reins--the other clutching his damaged mid-section. "...I left 'im tied an' gagged...an' bound ta the brass headboard...of yore bed," he replied rather breathlessly.
"How could you?!" the woman shouted, appearing appalled and sounding outraged at the very thought of the Marshal's grungy prisoner lying in her nice, clean bed.
"Believe me, I couldn't," Crown assured her. Then he carefully removed his gunbelt, his hat and his vest. The clothing was carefully pitched back through the canvas opening behind their seat. The gun was stashed behind his back, and the gunbelt was stowed down below at his feet.
Katelyn looked puzzled. She ducked her pretty head back into the wagon for a moment and then reappeared, looking even more puzzled. If Tanner wasn't lying in her bed, then he had to be lying under it.
"I had ta shove 'im out a' sight," the lawman continued, carefully releasing the wheel brake. "There's a very strong possibility that we might be in for some company--very shortly," he added, easing up on the reins to give the team an encouraging rap on their behinds.
The horses took his subtle hint and stepped out. The wagon followed, lurching slightly as the repaired rear wheel came up out of the hole he had dug for it.
"An', if anyone should happen ta come along," Crown continued, as the team plodded ahead under his careful guidance, "it might be best if they were ta find one, big, happy 'family' here..." he added hintingly.
But the woman didn't reply. Katelyn was busy. She was watching her horses. She wanted to see how they were going to react to their new driver. She was surprised to find the man could handle her team so well. The pair was high-strung and they both had hard mouths and minds of their own. So, what was it about this man's grip on their reins that made them suddenly so responsive? So ready, willing and eager to obey? She stared thoughtfully down at the scraped and bruised hands that were keeping such a firm, yet gentle hold on her horses.
"Okay?" the hands' owner inquired, firmly, yet gently, repeating his hint.
Katelyn finally took the hint and Jamie, and scooted over to sit arm-in-arm, hip-to-hip, and thigh-to-thigh with her 'hubby'. "Whatever you say, Dea-ear!" she replied, sounding incredibly insincere. She felt the Marshal's body go completely rigid. And, as his breathing stopped, so did her horses. She had everything she could do to keep from smiling.
Crown gradually recovered from his close encounter of the opposite sex kind. He got his breathing and the horses going again and then turned to his very obliging 'wife'. He found himself face-to-face, and practically nose-to-nose with the very attractive, very alluring, very lovely lady again. He studied the woman carefully and saw that she was obviously enjoying herself immensely. Yes-sir, Jamie's mommy seemed to take a tremendous amount of delight in tormenting him. So he had an important decision to make here: either he could make her day and allow her to make his life miserable, or he could turn the tables on her and pretend to find his present predicament immensely enjoyable as well. He decided he'd try his hand at tormenting Katelyn Edwards for a change. He pressed his hip up hard against hers, then carefully wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her even closer to him.
Not to be outdone, Katelyn snuggled cozily up in his embrace and nestled her head against his shoulder.
The Marshal's eyes narrowed a bit, and his face scrunched up a might. Then he drew in as deep a breath as he dared and forced his fingers to playfully caress a few soft and silky strands of her long and beautiful raven-black hair.
The woman tilted her head back to stare contentedly up at him.
He could feel her warm breath on his cheek. Jim Crown was finding it so intensely, immensely enjoyable to be holding Katelyn Edwards in his arms, that he didn't have to pretend even one teensy bit. There was some pretty powerful chemistry at work here, too, for he could feel his pulse and respirations quickening. He chanced a glance in Katelyn's direction and saw that a different look had replaced the look of amusement in those beautiful dark eyes of hers. He watched as her look of feigned contentment was suddenly replaced by one of fear and uncertainty, and then, gradually, by one of genuine longing. He could imagine those looks being reflected in his own eyes and quickly averted his gaze again. It was then that he realized just how dangerous his decision to play along and try to beat the lady at her own game actually was. Still waters ran deep...and so did the feelings he was beginning to experience. Feelings which he'd been keeping buried...feelings which he had been denying himself for a long, lo-ong time. Perhaps too long a time. Then again, maybe not long enough. He was in no position at the moment to be making any personal commitments of any kind--to anybody. It wouldn't be right for him to start something he may not live long enough to finish. So, as vulnerable as the lovely lady looked--and as tempted as he indeed was--he heaved a heavy, painful sigh of frustration and started pulling a tight rein in on his rampaging emotions.
"So. There is a 'Mrs.' Marshal, then..." Katelyn Edwards acknowledged glumly as Jim Crown backed down and began to pull away.
'Mr.' Marshal noticed the little lady sounded slightly embarrassed, and maybe even just the teensiest bit disappointed, and so he couldn't help but smile, "No-o," he reassured her. "An' there wouldn't be much of a future for anyone playin' that particular role right now, neither..." he added rather candidly under his breath.
But Katelyn caught both of his comments and was about to make a further comment herself when she was interrupted by the sound of riders approaching. Before she knew it, the Marshal had the wagon stopped and had swapped the reins in his hands for his rifle. She drew Jamie up close to herself, and herself up closer to her 'man' and quickly threw herself back into her assigned part.
"Katelyn," Marshal Crown spoke quietly, looking and sounding all business-like again, "you an' Jamie get in the back an' stay down!"
Mrs. Edward's pert little jaw dropped, her mouth fell open and she stared up at her 'husband' in shock and disbelief.
"Go on..." Crown continued, catching sight of the mutinous glint which had begun to appear in his lovely 'wife's' smoldering eyes. "Do as you're told!" he ordered firmly--yet gently.
Katelyn had every intention of protesting--and protesting vehemently. But the genuine deep concern in her 'husband's' voice, and the pleading--almost desperate--look on his rugged, handsome face caused her to quickly reconsider...and to completely change her original course of action. She shot Jim Crown a deeply concerned look of her own, then gathered Jamie up in her arms and quickly scrambled up over the low back of their seat. She and the baby disappeared through the canvas opening and vanished from sight just as two of 'Mister' Mareck's gunmen rode into view.
"Afternoon!" 'Mr. Edwards' greeted the men cautiously. Well, the Marshal was sure he had never seen either of them before. Now, the question was--would they recognize him? They showed no sign that they did. But then, they weren't looking at him. Both men had their full attention focused on the rifle barrel which he had trained on them...and which he kept slowly waving back and forth across them at about the level of their chests, "What kin I do for you boys?"
They acknowledged his cautious greeting and question with nervous nods and nervous tips of their hats. "You, uh, travelin' alone, are yah?" the rider on the left wondered with a noticeably nervous edge to his voice.
"Got a family inside," 'Mr. Edwards' replied.
"You folks seen anyone else come through here lately?" the rider on the right wanted to know.
"Why-y?" 'Mr. Edwards' answered with another cautious question, "You two lose a couple a' friends a' yores?"
"Nah," the left rider assured him, "The two gents who left you those two tired horses back there weren't no friends a' ours! Or yores, neither--by the looks a' those bruises."
'Mr. Edwards' feigned relief and lowered his rifle barrel--a bit, "They rode in jes' before the storm hit. Wanted ta know if I'd be interested in doin' some horse tradin'. Said they wanted ta swap their 'spent' saddle horses for our 'fresh' ones. I told 'em I didn't think much a' the deal. But they had more...bargainin' power!" he added, raising his right hand to his face to rub his badly bruised and scraped knuckles over a deep bruise on his left cheek. "The rain's washed their tracks away. But they rode off in this direction," 'Mr. Edwards' added helpfully and motioned straight ahead to the east, "So I figure they mus' be headin' for Hardesty--same as us. An' I'm hopin' we'll get our horses back once we--" the Marshal was suddenly interrupted by a horrible commotion coming from the back of the wagon.
The commotion consisted of a combination of several different sounds being made simultaneously. It was the sound of garbled, incoherent speech--the sound of someone's bootheels kicking boards--and the sound of a brass bed being bounced up and down.
The two gunmen glanced nervously at each other and then at the back of the wagon.
"What's all that ruckus?!" the rider on the right wondered, sounding every bit as nervous as he looked.
"There! There!" Katelyn shouted suddenly above the din. "Settle down now! Or, I swear, I'll wallop you a good one!" she threatened--er, promised.
And the racket ceased...for the moment, at least.
"Sorry for all the rumpas, gentlemen," Mrs. Edwards apologized as she and Jamie reappeared through the canvas opening and then plopped down on the front seat to sit arm-in-arm, hip-to-hip, and thigh-to-thigh with her 'husband' once again. "The older boy don't like bein' punished," she explained, smiling sweetly down at the two gunmen who were ogling lustfully up at her. "He was behavin' so badly earlier this afternoon, that my husband had ta give 'im a good lickin' an' put him ta bed. An' he's not allowed out agin 'til we stop for sup--" she was suddenly interrupted by a horrible commotion coming from the back of the wagon again.
"An' if he doesn't stop throwin' them temper tantrums back there," her 'husband' warned--in a voice that was both loud and clear enough for the 'older boy' to hear, "He's gonna get another good, solid beatin'!"
And--again--the racket ceased.
'Mr. Edwards' breathed a shallow sigh of relief and turned his attention to his insubordinate 'spouse'. "I thought I told you ta get in the back a' the wagon an' stay down!" he repeated, wrapping a protective arm around her and the baby. Then he gave the gunmen with their ogling stares some menacing glares.
"Don't worry, Mister. We understand. If I had a woman that looked like her, I'd wanna keep her all ta myself, too!" the rider on the right told him truthfully.
"Yeah!" the rider on the left joined in, "An' yah don't have ta worry 'bout those two men who took yore horses, neither. 'Cuz we aim ta see ta it that neither one of 'ems gonna be doin' any more shady horse dealin'--ever again!" he added, tapping the butt of his rifle in a rather unsubtle hint.
The two 'Prince Charmin' act-alikes exchanged sleezy, slimy smiles and mockingly tipped their hats. Then, after giving the lovely lady a few last lustful ogles--and her lucky husband a few last blatently envious looks--the gunmen turned and went galloping off...in the direction of Hardesty.
The Marshal watched them ride off 'til they were almost out of sight, then he passed Katelyn his rifle and picked up his pistol to go check on his now conscious--and guilty of disorderly conduct--prisoner.
Crown carefully jerked the jerk out from under the bed just a bit and yanked the gag down, freeing his mouthy prisoner's mouth. "We-ell? Go on!" he urged sarcastically, "If you're that tired a' livin'...Call 'em back! Go on!" he repeated as Tanner's lips remained tightly pursed, "A few more seconds an' they'll be out a' earshot..."
His prisoner's pursed lips formed a frown and finally opened in an ugly snarl. "The great Marshal Crown!" he snarled, exhibiting some superlative sarcasm of his own, "Hidin' behind a lady's skirts!" Tanner's snarl slowly transformed back into that sleezy, slimy smile of his. "What wou-ould folks say?" he taunted.
"If they were any smarter than you, which wouldn't be too difficult," the great Marshal Crown replied as he replaced his prisoner's gag and double-checked the secureness of his bonds. "Prob'ly that 'A live dog is better off than a dead lion.' Now, if I have ta come back here again, I'm not gonna like it! An' I kin guarantee that you're gonna like it even less!" he promised icily and then carefully shoved his prisoner back out of sight.
"So-o, you are familiar with The Good Book, after all!" Katelyn said, as her 'husband' carefully dropped himself down onto the seat beside her and replaced his revolver so he could carefully retrieve the reins. "I heard you quotin' Scripture back there," she added, seeing Jim Crown looking somewhat confused.
"Oh. Yah mean that real thick book with all a' those real thin pages?" the Marshal teased. "Yeah, I've read it. Cover-ta-cover. Countless times," he confessed quietly as he re-released the wheel brake and got her temperamental team going again. "Yah see, it wasn't jest The Good Book," he continued, turning the two horses into an incredibly tight, perfectly executed half circle, "it was the only book I could lay my hands on for the first thirteen or so years a' my life. Somethin' wrong?" he wondered, seeing Katelyn Edwards looking somewhat confused herself.
"Yea-eah! I thought you said Cimarron was about twenty-four miles that-a-way?" the woman reminded him, pointing accurately to the southeast.
"It is!" Crown assured her and kept right on heading to the southwest.
"So then, why are we goin' this-a-way?" she wondered, looking and sounding even more confused.
"Because we're obviously not goin' ta Cimarron," the lawman elusively responded.
"Well, I think I kin 'guess' why we're not goin' ta Hardesty. But would yah mind tellin' me why we're not goin' ta Cimarron?"
"Because I cain't take Tanner there. An' the town ain't exactly the safest place for vistors right now, either," the Marshal explained, patiently putting up with the woman--and a-all of her many questions.
There were a few moments of blessed silence as Katelyn thought over the man's very vague replies. "So then, where are you takin' us?"
"To a place that is safe for visitors," the lawman answered--even more elusively.
The very independent minded, very determined, very lovely lady suddenly looked very annoyed. She was extremely annoyed. "Well, how far is it ta this safe place a' yores? 'Cuz we don't wanna go west! We wanna go east! We'll never get ta St. Louie' at this rate! First we're stranded...Then I find out we're two hundred miles off course...An' no-ow, you're forcin' us ta take this ridiculous detour!"
"The two a' you have already been sort a' detoured--for the past two days," Crown cut in when she stopped for air. "So...'What's one more gonna hurt?'" he wondered, using the woman's very own words. "Besides," he continued before she could, "the two a' you are never gonna make it all the way ta Missouri with this outfit," he began and was just about to explain why, when the very lovely lady just suddenly exploded.
"Jes' who do you think you are, anyways?! 'Mr. Marshal Jim Crown'?! An' how dare you tell us where we can or cannot go?! An' what we can or cannot do?! This is a free country! An' we'll go where we like! An' we'll do what we like! An' don't you forget it!" she strongly advised the 'ma-an'.
"Fi-ine!" 'Mr. Marshal Jim Crown' calmly and readily agreed, "I'll jes' forget what The Good Book says about takin' care a' widows an' orphans. An' you kin go wherever you like. An' you kin do whatever you like. An' you kin say whatever you like. But--when it comes ta bein' 'proud' an' 'pigheaded'--we men cain't hold a candle ta you women! An' don't you forget that!" he strongly advised the 'woman'.
There was another stretch of blessed silence as 'widow' Edwards contemplated the 'jes' tryin' ta be a good Christian's' comments over...carefully. As much as she hated to admit it, the 'man' was right. They were both proud and pigheaded! But the 'man' wasn't too proud and pigheaded to admit when he was wrong. And neither was she. She just dreaded having to do it out loud is all. "Okay...I'm sorry," she quickly and quietly stated. "So what makes you think we're not goin' ta make it?" she begrudgingly inquired.
"Nothin'!" the man told her truthfully, "Because I don't think that. I'm sure the two a' you are gonna make it--jes' fi-ine! It jes' won't be with this outfit. I took a look at yore other wheels. The rims are completely shot on all of 'em. The metal's either rusted or worn completely away. An' the wood's rotted clear through. Most a' yore spokes are rotten, too. A lot of 'em already have cracks in 'em. It's amazin' you made it this far with 'em before one finally busted. An' if, by some further miracle, we somehow manage ta make it even further an' actually get ta where we're goin' without losin' any more...we kin throw a couple a' spare wheels off a couple a' my wagons in the back a' yore wagon. Then I'll have one a' my deputies take the two a' you inta Hardesty in the mornin'. He'll see ta it that you get a fair price for yore outfit. Course, the wagon won't bring much. But yore team, here'll fetch top dollar. The two a' you kin use some a' that money ta buy either a stagecoach ticket ta Dodge--or a train ticket ta St. Louie'--or wherever yah like!" he finished, suddenly recalling what the little lady had strongly advised him not to forget. And then he smiled as, once again, his careful comments caused the little lady to smile. But her smile faded fast, way too fast as far as Crown was concerned.
"Where will you be in the mornin'?" Katelyn inquired rather anxiously.
"Hopefully, I'll be restin' peacefully, but not eternally...in my bed...back in Cimarron," the lawman answered, sounding very hopeful and looking very weary. If it weren't for his uncanny knack of being able to nap while sitting up on a horse's back, he wouldn't a' had more than three hours of sleep for the last six days--all totaled. No wonder he felt like he was walking around in his sleep! He practically was!
And he wasn't the only one who had noticed that fatiguing fact. "I was jes' gonna go an' put Jamie down for a nap," Katelyn confessed. "But if you wanna go back an' lie down with him for a while, you're more than welcome to. In fact, you'd sort a' be doin' me a big favor," she added as the exhausted man turned to her with a look in his tired, dreamy, dark eyes which said, 'Oh-oh, if only I could! But I jest cain't accept yore incredibly generous, too wonderful to be true offer'. "Yah see, since you took it upon yerself ta stash that stinkin' prisoner a' yores under my bed, I kin barely breathe for the smell back there! So, if you kin stand it, I'd apprecite it. 'Cuz there's no way I'm gonna leave Jamie back there all alone. An' if you make me go back there, I swear, that smell is gonna make me sick!"
The terribly tired looking lawman turned to her again. Only this time, the look in his eyes told her, 'Well, since you put it that way'. "See that ridge over there ta the right?" the Marshal wondered, motioning with his head in the general direction referred to in his inquiry.
Katelyn glanced in said direction, spotted said ridge, and nodded.
"Well, you jes' keep followin' along that ridge an' it'll take you practic'ly all the way ta where we're goin'."
"Great!" Katelyn declared, sounding rather relieved. "Then I'm bound ta stay on course...this time." She smiled as her comment caused Jim Crown to smile.
"You were never off course, Katelyn," the smiling, deeply appreciative sounding, deeply grateful looking lawman calmly informed her. "You were jes' given the wrong course ta begin with. Whoever it was that told you ta keep headin' due east an' inta the risin' sun--simply forgot that the sun sets jest a little bit ta the south on the horizon, this time a' year."
There was another long comfortable silence as they sat there smiling and staring into each others eyes again.
"Go on then! Take Jamie," the smiling, deeply appreciative sounding, deepy grateful looking little lady calmly requested. "I kin manage jes' fine up here. An', if somethin' or someone should come along that I cain't handle, I know how ta git yore attention," she added, motioning to the loaded rifle resting on the seat beside her.
The Marshal stuck his Colt carefully back in its holster and draped his gunbelt carefully over his right shoulder. Then he turned to Katelyn and swapped his two sets of reins for her one sleeping infant. He rested the limp little child carefully upon his left shoulder.
And the boy's mommy marveled that all the sudden movement hadn't somehow managed to wake her young son up. Either the baby was incredibly tired, or the man handling him was incredibly gentle--or maybe it was a combination of both.
Jamie's mommy and the Marshal exchanged smiles one last time--along with a few final looks of undying gratitude.
Then Crown carefully crawled over the back of their seat and carefully carted his precious cargo over to his makeshift playpen, where he carefully set the baby down and covered it with a small quilt blanket.
If the air was, indeed, 'raunchy' in the back of the wagon, the Marshal wasn't aware of it. In fact, it wasn't too long at all before he was no longer aware of anything. Jim Crown was fast asleep--before either he, or his head ever hit Mrs. Edwards' bed.