a tragic fall.”
For the first time she offered a slight smile. “The local gossips appear to have been at work again. I fear they often labor much too hard at spreading groundless tales as the truth. No, Mr. Dodge, my husband did not die in a fall. He was murdered by business associates in Shelbyville—a town located in that area of Texas sometimes referred to as the Redlands.”
Shook my head in disbelief. “That news is most distressing to hear. Please accept my sympathies for an unacceptable loss.”
“Evil men sought to lay their bloody hands on a small fortune he’d acquired through land speculation. But shortly before his death that thoughtful man converted his vast holdings into cash, placed the money in a secret bank account, and informed me how to acquire the funds should anything wayward occur.” She fingered a miniature timepiece held to her bodice by a slip of lace. “Looking back on the event, I am almost certain he had a premonition of his brutal passing. Today I am a wealthy woman as a result of his foresight, Mr. Dodge. Perhaps the wealthiest woman in this part of the state.”
“And one helluva a shot, I might add.” Realized my social blunder immediately. “Forgive my lapse into questionable language, ma’am. I fear my crudity results from rough-and-ready company most of the time.”
Pleased me no end when she held the handkerchief over her mouth and cut loose with lusty, robust laughter. “Ah, yes. Well, sir, even my father’s extensive investments in Mrs. Cranston’s New Orleans Finishing School for Accomplished Young Women did little to erase a rambunctious childhood on the Texas frontier. I was raised in the company of six astonishingly profane brothers. Your ‘lapse,’ as you call it, is of no consequence.”
With that candid confession, she stood and waved me into her dining room and, perhaps, the best home-cooked meal I’d consumed since leaving the shelter of my mother’s tender care. When the coffee finally came, and she’d settled back into her chair, I deemed it the best time to broach the topic that actually brought me to her that evening.
Sat my delicate cup in its matching saucer and said, “Mrs. Savage, I fear we are compelled to discuss a most serious subject before I take my leave from you tonight. I must bring to your attention a matter that could bear heavily upon you and your son’s well-being.”
Could detect no surprise in her voice, or appearance, at my ominous-sounding declaration. “While I had hoped this visit would remain purely social, and admit to looking forward to seeing you again, sir, I feared that such was the case. I take it you have some news relating to the recent death of the thief Reuben Coffin—by my hand.”
Put the cup and saucer aside and leaned toward her in as intimate a gesture as proper deportment would allow. “Marshal Oakley and I have developed what we feel is reliable information that leads us to believe a price has been put on our lives and evil men are on their way to Salt Valley to collect. According to the best information I’ve been able to develop, those selfsame men mean to kill the both of us.”
“And how would you suggest I proceed, Mr. Dodge?”
“As we haven’t much time to decide on a course of action, it would be my recommendation that we leave this place as quickly as possible. Seek refuge in Fort Worth. I sincerely doubt even the most determined of killers would follow us into Company B’s Ranger camp. Even those bold enough to admit their connection to a man of Nate Coffin’s infamous reputation.”
Her hand shook as she put her own cup aside. She stood, then strode majestically to one of the windows that faced Salt Valley’s central thoroughfare, pulled the curtain aside with one finger, and gazed into a night bathed in gold-tinted moonlight.
“While I must admit to a degree of fear, Mr. Dodge, it is not for my own life, but my son’s. William, you see, is my life.”
“Please believe that I
For the first time she offered a slight smile. “The local gossips appear to have been at work again. I fear they often labor much too hard at spreading groundless tales as the truth. No, Mr. Dodge, my husband did not die in a fall. He was murdered by business associates in Shelbyville—a town located in that area of Texas sometimes referred to as the Redlands.”
Shook my head in disbelief. “That news is most distressing to hear. Please accept my sympathies for an unacceptable loss.”
“Evil men sought to lay their bloody hands on a small fortune he’d acquired through land speculation. But shortly before his death that thoughtful man converted his vast holdings into cash, placed the money in a secret bank account, and informed me how to acquire the funds should anything wayward occur.” She fingered a miniature timepiece held to her bodice by a slip of lace. “Looking back on the event, I am almost certain he had a premonition of his brutal passing. Today I am a wealthy woman as a result of his foresight, Mr. Dodge. Perhaps the wealthiest woman in this part of the state.”
“And one helluva a shot, I might add.” Realized my social blunder immediately. “Forgive my lapse into questionable language, ma’am. I fear my crudity results from rough-and-ready company most of the time.”
Pleased me no end when she held the handkerchief over her mouth and cut loose with lusty, robust laughter. “Ah, yes. Well, sir, even my father’s extensive investments in Mrs. Cranston’s New Orleans Finishing School for Accomplished Young Women did little to erase a rambunctious childhood on the Texas frontier. I was raised in the company of six astonishingly profane brothers. Your ‘lapse,’ as you call it, is of no consequence.”
With that candid confession, she stood and waved me into her dining room and, perhaps, the best home-cooked meal I’d consumed since leaving the shelter of my mother’s tender care. When the coffee finally came, and she’d settled back into her chair, I deemed it the best time to broach the topic that actually brought me to her that evening.
Sat my delicate cup in its matching saucer and said, “Mrs. Savage, I fear we are compelled to discuss a most serious subject before I take my leave from you tonight. I must bring to your attention a matter that could bear heavily upon you and your son’s well-being.”
Could detect no surprise in her voice, or appearance, at my ominous-sounding declaration. “While I had hoped this visit would remain purely social, and admit to looking forward to seeing you again, sir, I feared that such was the case. I take it you have some news relating to the recent death of the thief Reuben Coffin—by my hand.”
Put the cup and saucer aside and leaned toward her in as intimate a gesture as proper deportment would allow. “Marshal Oakley and I have developed what we feel is reliable information that leads us to believe a price has been put on our lives and evil men are on their way to Salt Valley to collect. According to the best information I’ve been able to develop, those selfsame men mean to kill the both of us.”
“And how would you suggest I proceed, Mr. Dodge?”
“As we haven’t much time to decide on a course of action, it would be my recommendation that we leave this place as quickly as possible. Seek refuge in Fort Worth. I sincerely doubt even the most determined of killers would follow us into Company B’s Ranger camp. Even those bold enough to admit their connection to a man of Nate Coffin’s infamous reputation.”
Her hand shook as she put her own cup aside. She stood, then strode majestically to one of the windows that faced Salt Valley’s central thoroughfare, pulled the curtain aside with one finger, and gazed into a night bathed in gold-tinted moonlight.
“While I must admit to a degree of fear, Mr. Dodge, it is not for my own life, but my son’s. William, you see, is my life.”
“Please believe that I
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