Nicademus: The Wild Ones (15 page)

Annabelle stepped out of the circle of his arms. With a dry eye and a determined will she led the way. They walked in silence. She was lost in her thoughts on his proposal and he was taken aback at how established and prosperous Nicademus was.

“Was the town named after Saint Nicodemus?” he asked.

She didn’t answer. She didn’t really hear the question. Her head was bowed and she chewed on her finger with her other hand clasping his. He wanted to know more, to know all he could about this place and its people. Nicademus had it all. From the general store to the bank, to a hotel, and novelty stores. There was a tented area ahead where he saw several Asian men busying about. A few native and black children ran past them. It seemed the colors of the world had all convened here. It was no surprise to him the amount of guarded suspicion he felt from the men and women he passed. In his peripheral vision he saw the way several curtains parted from the storefront windows as they walked through the center of town. Most by now had heard of the outlaw who had brought trouble.

“There it is,” she pointed to the saloon.

A small crowd was gathered outside of it. And to his disappointment her hand dropped away from his. But he understood. Instinctively he wanted to keep his hands on his guns. The looks from the men gathered were the most venomous he’d seen since the war.

“That him?”
one man said.

“Looks like it. Why the fuck is he here anyhow?”
said another.

“Heard the Indian killed three white men to protect him,”
spat another man.

“Damn rascal, he ain’t our problem! I say we get the hanging judge back in to deal with him!”
said another.

“No! Let’s get the 9
th
Calvary. Let them get the credit for bringing him back in!”
another sneered.

“I suggest y’all mind your own business!” Annabelle said. The men frowned and exchanged looks when she grabbed his hand once more. Annabelle stood her ground. The bruises to the side of her face rendered them all silent. The crowd gathered parted for them. “Come on, we going inside.”

Before he could respond he was pulled through the crowd of men. “This is where Cora and Red Sun stay. Like I said, everyone call her Ms. Kitty. Be sure you don’t call her by her Christian name. It’s disrespectful.” They went up the steps. “And don’t you worry none, outlaw, Judge Mayfield don’t come into town until next week. So ain’t nobody hanging nobody!” she said loud enough for those around her to here. She pushed aside the swinging shutter doors and he followed her into the saloon.

Tables were scattered around and a piano was opposite the bar. The stairs were set to the back of the place. It smelled of ale, pine, chestnuts, and musk. The lighting was much dimmer inside. The sheriff waited for them at a table with two others. There was a younger man seated who looked like the sheriff, and another black man who had a deputy shield on his vest. All three stared at them from under the brims of their hats. One in particular had a gaze that lingered on Annabelle with concern. He looked to her to see if there was something shared between the two. She stood at his side emotionless.

When they approached the table the young man stood and removed his hat. “Miss Annabelle, have a seat,” he offered.

“No thank you. I’s fine, Henry,” Annabelle replied. “Every one, this here is Jeremiah ‘One-Finger’ Polk. An innocent man. I know you heard what happened last night at my place. Well, there is more to the story. I just want you to listen and hear it all before you judge.”

Jeremiah’s gaze swiveled up to the saloon girls leaning on the top balcony staring down at him. The women ranged from Asian to the darkest shade of brown. They were young, they were beautiful, and they were as distrustful of him as the men were. And then his gaze was drawn toward the other men on the bar stools or standing.

Ms. Kitty and the tall Indian came out of a door. The pair walked over to the table where the sheriff sat. Only the Indian took a seat. Ms. Kitty stood behind him. Annabelle nodded for Jeremiah to do the same. Jeremiah drew out the chair and sat down.

“Henry, have a seat,” the sheriff said to his son.

The young man was the last to sit. Annabelle stood behind Jeremiah and put her hands to his shoulders. Everyone waited for the sheriff to speak. The man looked like he had aged overnight. He took a shot of something dark in a glass and slammed the small glass back down on the table.

“You got two options, outlaw. First option, from this day forward you will stay here at the Blue Moon Saloon. You will turn over your guns, and you will be under my son’s watch and protection.” He nodded to Henry.

“What’s the other option?” Jeremiah asked.

“I got a cell for you down at the jail that can be just as accommodating,” he replied.

“But sheriff—” Annabelle started. The Indian gave her a stern look and she fell silent. Henry wore a smug look of satisfaction.

“Cora,” the sheriff said. Jeremiah saw the woman bristle at his using her Christian name in front of everyone. Jeremiah suspected that the sheriff did it for that purpose. “Can you make room for Annabelle too? If Tyler Shepherd or any of his men ride back, her place is their first stop.”

“It’s already arranged. We got a room for the outlaw,” Ms. Kitty answered. “A special one we keep for runaways when the boomers used to come lookin’ for them.”

“Slavery’s over,” Jeremiah said.

All of them turned their gazes toward him with a look of contempt in their eyes. He didn’t mean to offend, but he clearly had.

“Is it?” the sheriff asked. “I reckon you ain’t been south lately. Folks still own folks, one way or another.”

Jeremiah nodded to them that he understood.

“Annabelle!” Ms. Kitty’s voice cracked like a whip. “Let’s get these boys something to wet their pipes and fill their bellies.”

He felt Annabelle’s hand leave his shoulder. Now all the men seated were glaring directly at him. Jeremiah sat up and reached around to untie his gun belt. He dropped it and his pistols in the center of the table.

“Red Sun told us that Tyler Shepherd is down the railroad line on his own private train car. He got a camp of about eight men. My guess is that ain’t enough so we ain’t heard from him yet because he sending for more. The 9
th
Calvary has already come through town. I’m not inclined to wire for them again considering what happened last night, and the three dead white men we had to bury this morning.” The sheriff pushed his hat up his forehead. “My question for you is, do you think Tyler Shepherd will bring in the law?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe. From what I can tell he lives outside of the law. He wants me dead. Silenced. If anything he’ll send for more of his men. But I’m not sure he’d wait for them to arrive before coming back,” Jeremiah said. “I don’t think he sees Nicademus as a threat.”

“Countin’ on that,” the sheriff said. “Before we go further you need to explain to us why you worth so much more money dead than alive.”

The wanted poster was tossed up on the table. Jeremiah considered his answer before speaking. Should he share the story of his family’s gold and his reasons for taking it? If he lied and it was uncovered then he’d lose any ground with them. Possibly respect with Annabelle.

“I never got away with any gold or any money from that bank. Not for trying though,” he lied. “I was only looking to take back what was mine. It was his posse that gunned down those lawmen trying to stop me from robbing the bank, but he had the crime put on my head. The dead banker too. They killed them and pinned it all on me,” he said, and that was the truth. He walked out of that bank and the banker was alive. Now he heard three dead men were pinned on him.

“Go on,” the sheriff said, as if he suspected there was more. The women put plates and drinks before them. Ms. Kitty began to translate what he said to Red Sun as he shared his story.

Just remembering his bitterness did away with his appetite. “My father was robbed of everything because of Tyler Shepherd. He murdered my entire family. I’ve been trying my hand at vengeance since I got out of the war. That there wanted poster is Shepherd’s way of putting the noose on my neck and burying his dirty deeds.”

He waited for a reaction. Not even the Indian blinked. No one seemed impressed. Jeremiah supposed every man at the table had been robbed of something in their lives. His tale made him no different or no better.

“My first thought was to turn you over. Because I figure you and whatever you took from Tyler Shepherd would be enough to spare our town.”

“I still think it’s a good plan, Pa,” Henry said.

The door to the saloon opened. An older white man dressed in undertaker black with a cane in one hand and a medical bag in the other walked inside. Jeremiah had never been so relieved to see a man of his own kind. The doctor, however, dismissed him. He went to the bar and took a seat. The sheriff continued.

“It’s not a good plan, boy. For one, a man like Tyler Shepherd takes what he wants. And right now he wants vengeance. I’ve seen his kind of arrogance before. We all have,” the sheriff glanced to the Indian. The men exchanged meaningful glances. “And to kill a man like Tyler Shepherd will bring the law down on us so swift nothing and no one would be spared. No one thinks you were framed. That there wanted poster has convicted you. Tyler Shepherd owns the railroad.”

“So what choice do you have?” Jeremiah asked. “Shepherd will return,” he warned.

“We defend ourselves. Seems to me he’s been raiding towns up and down the rail line. Any causalities could be blamed on you.”

“They can’t have it!” a person yelled. And a chorus of agreement rose.

“We aren’t going to lose our town!” one of the women on the top floor shouted down. The other girls began to shout their protest as well.

“Everyone, calm down!” Ms. Kitty’s voice rose above the chorus. “I said that’s enough! There’s another way,” she said.

“No!” the Indian spoke and slammed his fist down on the table. “No other way!” he said in English. Everyone stilled. The Indian who only observed their lives proved he could speak English, and understand it. The only two who didn’t seem shocked by it were Annabelle and Ms. Kitty.

“I can go to Tyler Shepherd, and send him on his way,” Ms. Kitty announced.

The Indian stood. Ms. Kitty walked back over to him. “We talked about it, Red Sun. Let me finish. Let me have my say. Please.”

“I agree with him, Cora,” the sheriff spoke. “We fight. We make a stand. But we don’t sacrifice you to do it.”

“And then what, Sheriff? How long before he’s missed? How long before they come looking to uncover what happened with all those men we’d have to kill? Either way we lose the town,” Cora sighed. She walked away with her hands on her hips. She wore a pale yellow dress with long sleeves, and a high collar like a lady of a manor, not a whore house. Her hair was pinned from her face by a sparkling barrette. And she had a great deal of respect from the men and women in the town. No one challenged her. Even Jeremiah found it hard to do so. “We have to defeat Shepherd at his own game. I know how. I done it before! Hear me? Let me go to him. Make him fall on his own sword. It’s the only hope we got.” She turned and fixed her brown eyes on Red Sun. “Please, baby. I need this too.”

Red Sun walked out.

The sheriff lifted his hat and scratched his head. “Cora, you and I need to talk this one out, sweetheart,” he said.

“No!” she replied with defiance. “Let me be clear, Ben. Red Sun is my man in this discussion. And the only conversation to be had is with him!”

“Now wait a minute—” the sheriff shouted.

“You wait. All of you hear me!” She glanced up at her girls. “What we have here is like rain. It’s pure, cleansing, a gift from heaven. Living in Nicademus these years has washed us clean of all the bad things going on in the world. But like rain, towns like ours comes and they goes. We all seen it. We all know it. I know this man Tyler Shepherd. I know what he wants, and I know what he’ll do to get it. You can hand over the outlaw to him, and it won’t make a damn bit of difference. You can board up your homes and hide your babies, and it won’t make a damn difference. You can pray that when this town burns to the ground you’ll find another just like it. And none of it will keep him from you. Fighting back don’t mean gunning those men down with bullets. We got to be smart.” Cora looked at Jeremiah. “They never think we are. That’s Shepherd’s weakness.”

Mumbles and whispers swept those gathered but no one countered Ms. Kitty’s offer with a sacrifice of their own. She arched her brow in the direction of the sheriff. “We ride before sundown. Doc Samuel, need to see you in my office. Now.”

The doctor eased off the barstool. He put on his hat and grabbed his cane and medical bag. The sheriff shot to his feet. He looked so angry he might burst a vein. He marched out of the saloon with his son on his heels. Jeremiah wasn’t sure what was to come next, but like Ms. Kitty, he knew it was coming.

“Come with me,” Annabelle said from behind him.

He nodded and stood. She walked him past the glaring sneers of her neighbors to a private storage room filled with barrels of homemade gin and whiskey. She closed the door. He initially thought this was for privacy, but when she turned on him he saw anger and contempt in her eyes. What had he done?