Winterborn Ch. 01

"Please sit here Mr. Gallagher she said showing him to one side of the table. "Is there anything I can get you before we start supper?"

"Yes em, you could drop the mister and just call me Dillon."

After finishing the meal, Dillon thought I could get used to this. Two great meals two nights in a row; sure beats the hell out of a cold supper on the trail. Tom held up two cigars and motioned for Dillon to follow him outside.

Dillon stood and gave a little bow toward Juanita. "That was an elegant dinner Mrs. Ryan. Thank you very much." He turned and followed Tom onto the porch.

"I notice three saloons on Main Street and a cantina around the corner. Isn't that a lot for a town the size of Wichita Falls?"

Tom had a grim smile when he answered. "Yep, it sure is. But they all get real busy when a cattle drive comes through."

"I've seen hands letting off steam in town after being on the trail for weeks at a time," Dillon said. "I know what you mean."

"The ranchers get price quotes by telegraph from San Antonio and from Abilene, Kansas; then they drive their herd to which ever has the best price." Tom chuckled and continued, "It's like throwing dice, one bad bounce and you've lost your stake. The ranchers are betting that the price will be the same or even higher after three to eight weeks on the trail. Sometimes they lose their bet."

Tom handed Dillon a cigar and said, "We get herds coming north to Abilene Kansas and herds heading south to San Antonio. And they all seem to lay over at least one night at our little town. Get's quite interesting sometimes."

After lighting the cigars, Tom explained the job to Dillon. "You'll work six days a week; Monday through Wednesday you'll have the night duty, 7 PM to 7 AM; there's a bunk in the office you can use to get some sleep. Thursday will be your day off. Friday through Sunday you work during the day, 7 AM to 7 PM. Any questions Dillon?"

He shook his head no and Tom added, "The only difference will be when the hands from a cattle drive are in town. We'll both be working until they're gone."

Dillon looked at Tom for a bit and said, "I do have one question. Why do you carry a shotgun?"

"Well.......I've run into a few that are a touch faster than me with a handgun but so far none of them could shoot straight. So I use a scattergun as an equalizer. It works better than a pistol when you face down more than one man too." Tom chuckled and added, "It sure puts the fear of God into someone that's looking down the barrel. Any more questions"

"Will you provide me with a scattergun or do I have to buy my own?" Dillon returned Tom's smile.

Monday morning at 7 AM, Dillon hitched his horse in front of the Marshal's office and went in. After saying good morning, Tom tossed a double barrel shotgun to him. Dillon saw it was Colt 12 gauge coach gun with 18 inch barrels.

"That's one of the few pieces of equipment that the town council will provide. They'll also provide loads for your pistol, Winchester, and that scattergun will be provided. Oh, I can get you a pair of shackles if you want. Personally I just use a tie down rope." Tom grinned and said, "Those damn shackles are too heavy to carry around with you all the time."

Dillon nodded and pick up a few shells from the box on Tom's desk and put them in his vest. He loaded the shotgun, put the weapon in the gun rack, and got a cup of coffee off the stove.

"I know you can handle yourself but I've got a little advice," Tom said. "We don't want to put too many of the cow hands in jail if we can keep from it. Settle em down and send them back to camp if you can. If not bring em in here and lock em up. Most time we can let them out in the morning so they can rejoin their outfit."

Dillon nodded again and replied, "Makes sense to me."

"By the way, we're expecting our first herd through here this weekend," Tom told him grinning.

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

The cow hands from the first two herds passing by Wichita Falls didn't raise too much hell. Dillon stopped a street fight that could have gotten ugly. He made the four men involved drop their weapons and head back to their camp. Dillon told them they could pick up the guns on their way out of town the next day.

At night after supper he took to reading the poetry books he'd brought with him from Richmond. Mrs. Boudreaux noticed him reading in the parlor one evening.

"What are you reading Mr. Gallagher?" It was interesting to her that this young man was actually reading.

"This one's a book of poems by Lord Byron," Dillon answered. Mrs. Boudreaux nodded that she knew who Byron was. "I have another one written by Shelley." She nodded again.

"Mr. Gallagher I have a small library down the hall there. You're most welcome to read anything you find there."

"Thank you ma'am, that'd be a real pleasure. You can only read so many two weeks old newspapers."

It became almost a nightly thing; on Dillon's nights off they would meet in the parlor and discuss poetry or other things that Dillon had read. On the days that he worked until 7PM, Mrs. Boudreaux would fix a plate of food for him and leave it in the oven. She took to joining him and they talked as he ate his supper.

One evening as she usually did, Mrs. Boudreaux asked him if there was anything else she could do for him.

"Yes ma'am there is. Could you see your way clear to call me Dillon? Mr. Gallagher makes me feel like an old man," he replied with a grin.

She chuckled and said, "I can do that Dillon and you must call me Emma."

As they talked that evening Dillon asked, "You're not from Texas are you Emma? I hear a southern influence in your speech instead of the Texas drawl like the folks from around here."

"You're very perceptive. I was born and raised in New Orleans," she answered.

"How'd you get to Wichita Falls, if you don't mind my asking?"

Emma had a sad little smile when she answered. "My marriage to Mr. Boudreaux, Jamie, was arranged by our families. We're Cajun and that's normal for the families back home. I was a frightened sixteen year old girl and Jamie was 26. We moved here right after we got married. Let's see that was almost 22 years ago."

"I'm sorry Emma; I didn't mean to bring up bad memories."

"You didn't. Jamie was a wonderful man and a better husband. He was very patient with me and I grew to love him very much. Then he was killed in the war six years ago."

"Did you ever think of returning home?"

"This is my home. Jamie ran a freight line and bought me this 'mansion' as he called it. After his death, I was able to sell the freight business and started a boarding house." She paused, smiled, and said, "It beats becoming a dance hall girl to make ends meet."

"Yes em, it surely does," Dillon agreed, thinking he wouldn't mind seeing her in one of the dresses those girls normally wore.

"I detect a bit of the south in your voice too Dillon," Emma remarked. "May I ask where your home is?"

"Richmond, Virginia is where I was born."

"If I get too nosey just say so," Emma said. Dillon shook his head and she asked, "Do you serve with the Confederacy in the war?"

"Yes ma'am, I rode with the First Virginia Cavalry. Seems like we fought every day for four long years."

"I'm sure you were glad to go home after the war ended," Emma said.

"Not really. The day that General Lee surrendered I headed west. I didn't go back home for three years."

"Why?"

"I guess some would say I was a coward because I didn't want to face the effects the war had on Richmond. So I just drifted for three years. Richmond was still a mess after all that time and the Union regulators weren't much help."

"You said you went home after three years. Why did you leave again?"

Dillon told Emma his reasons for leaving Richmond after a short visit; about the conflicting ideas and tension between him and his father, refusing to take the oath to the Union, and the Union confiscation of his farm. "My mother moved to Boston to live with her sister; there wasn't anything to hold me so I started drifting again"

"Now I'm the one that's sorry for bringing up bad memories," Emma apologized.

"Don't be sorry. The memories aren't bad or good, they just are.

Two weeks later on a Thursday morning Emma asked Dillon to take a ride with her. They rode to the cemetery outside of town. Dillon was a little puzzled at Emma's choice of destinations.

"Tomorrow is our anniversary, Jamie's and mine," Emma told him. "I come out here every year to spend a few minutes with him. This time I wanted someone that understood and had lost something in that damn war to come with me," Emma said. She got off her horse and took some flowers out of her saddle bag. Emma walked to a headstone and put the flowers on the grave and stood quietly for a several minutes.

Dillon waited with the horses and when she came back he saw tears in her eyes. She was smiling at the same time. "Thank you for coming with me Dillon." They mounted and rode back to the rooming house.

That evening they were in the parlor as usual. After the last of the boarders went to bed, Emma took Dillon's hand and led him to her room.

Dillon wanted nothing more than to go into that room but he had to say something. "Emma, I don't know how long I'll be here. I only signed on for three months, you know. I can't promise that I'll stay after that."

"I know. But tonight I want to be with you. You've lost a lot just as I have; we're like kindred spirits. Please give me, give us this night. We'll let the future take care of the future."

Dillon followed Emma into her bedroom and closed the door behind him.

To be continued.