Chapter 19

We had been out on the range a total of 10 days before trouble popped up. We had gathered up about five hundred head and were camped about 10 miles from home. The cattle had been restless most of the evening, as if they knew something was going to happen. The sky covered over around ten thirty that night It was dangerously dark with no light from the usually full moon or from the stars. A breeze became a windstorm. Then the sky lit up out of nowhere. Everything was frozen in place as if a camera strobe flashed. Chaos ensued right after that. The cattle decided they didn't want to be there; anywhere else but there.

STAMPEDE! The word was shouted out just as the herd started to move. We were mounted and riding hard as quick as the lightning that started it. I was told that the trick with a stampede was to run them in a circle if there was room. We had room, and that's what the men were doing, turning the herd in a big circle. We worked the herd until they tired. They were running slower and slower. It came to the point where the cattle were walking and some even stopped. They were milling around like cattle tend to do. The stampede was over. Most of the men were tuckered out and even the post riders were dozing in their saddles. Ride the range long enough and you learn how to sleep on your horse. It may have been a fluke, but the dry lightning is something dreaded by all of us. You never know when it's going to strike.

A very weary crew drove the cattle into the stockade late in the afternoon. Sam, Jesse, and I shook hands with Jim, Waite's foreman. He told us they were waiting for Malone's crew to come in before we pushed them to the railhead. Tomorrow would be a day off for most of the crew. Cowboys from the Phillips ranch would care for the penned livestock, but the rest of us were free for a day. We wearily headed for the barn. Since a cowboy is only as good as his horse, the first thing we did when we got home was take care of the horses. We headed for the house once they were curried, fed, and watered. Sam's home was closer and I watched as he took the steps two at a time. His wife who had to jump just to reach his shoulders greeted the big man. She was lithe, and quickly pulled herself up into his waiting arms. Laughing, he carried her into the house and closed the door. That would be the last I would see of him until day after tomorrow.

I was dragging when I finally opened the kitchen door. I hadn't even bothered to wash up. I was bushed and figured I'd sneak in. Well, I figured wrong. I was besieged by a bevy of beauties as soon as I got the door closed. It seems they were on the lookout because one of Jim's boys had high-tailed it over to announce we'd returned. I had to remember to punch that one out next time I saw him. The fussing had already begun. I was pushed into a chair and Ginny began working on the boot on my left foot. Lora took the right foot in turn. Jackie and Susannah worked on my shirt buttons, while Clementine and Mom undid the buttons on my sleeves. Becca was unfastening my belt, and Rebecca was massaging my shoulders, working the knots out. Becca had moved on to the buttons on my pants.

Another set of hands reached out and caressed my chest and neck while they all had me distracted. They came from the right side and I turned to see Lana providing that stimulation. Jackie whispered in my ear.

"She's ready. We've been priming her for you. We all made love to her last night. She's quite the spitfire, too, so play nice. Take that shower you need, and we'll be waiting in the bed for you. Go now, Husband." She sensuously kissed me and sent me to the showers. I had made a hot water tank for the house. It was gravity feed again, although there was a firebox assembly that allowed us to heat the water this time. A second cold water tank was beside it. The windmill kept the tanks full. Overflow was collected and directed through clay pipe back to the stock pond. This unit was on the outside of the house to reduce the fire hazard. The tinsmith was very interested in the design I had supplied him. The showerhead worked like a rainfall. It was twelve inches in diameter and I loved the feel of the hot water as it drizzled down.

One concession to the times was that I bring along some necessities, like Coast deodorant soap, every time we come back to Waco. Colgate toothpaste, Listerine, floss, Degree, Suave Shampoo, feminine hygiene products, and other things of a similar nature. Jackie, Tara, and Mom had instructed the ladies in the use of such niceties and they all loved them. I felt refreshed as I entered the bedroom. Jackie was there to direct the action, and I seemed to be the main attraction. Lana was lying in the middle of the bed waiting.

Dawn was breaking and the gray streaks mingled with the red across the eastern sky. Lana was nestled up against my right side, and her sister, Lora, was on my left. The rest of my wives were in contact with one of us. I closed my eyes and slept.

I guessed it was around noon when I awoke, alone in bed, save one. Lana was still attached to my right side. I looked over as I opened my eyes. She was watching me. Who knows how long she'd been there staring at me. She smiled at me and lightly kissed my nose. She beamed as I smiled back.

"Well, my love," I started to say, "I guess this means I'll have to make an honest woman of you. So when have my wives decided the ceremony is to be?"

She giggled. "They said that we wouldn't need a ceremony after last night, because we'd be joined forever, but we're going to have the minister over on Saturday for the rest of the world. Ranger Phillips has offered his parlor since it's so much larger than anyone else's. Everyone can attend this way, plus they have that big staircase. Michele wants me to come down the stairs at the start. We are all going to go in to Waco to get my dress later today."

Her excitement was evident. I had to chuckle a little bit before pulling her nude body up against mine. I fondled her body as I kissed her, and she started to squirm under my attention.

"Cut that out now," she demanded, "I'm really sore and I need to heal before our wedding night. Jackie applied some cream she said she got from Diana, whoever that is."

We hadn't shared our travel ability with Lora yet, so she didn't know about Jeff and Arlene, and Diana and the rest at the Resort in my original timeline, nor was she even aware that we could travel through time. She would have that surprise later. We would take her to our house first to let her get used to the idea. We would take everyone to meet Jeff and to get treatment for all from Little One later. Jeff had offered that to our family, and we said we would bring everyone at a later date.

My women set the works in motion right after lunch. I brought the big surrey out because it was now the only wagon we had that had enough room for everyone. Even though I shouldn't have been surprised, I was startled when I saw Jesse driving his buckboard into our compound with his four wives on board. I guess this was going to be another party-trip. He handed the rein down, which I wrapped around the hitching post rail. He jumped down and offered to assist, which I gratefully accepted.

I handed the reins to Mom once they had boarded, and untied Jesse's rig. I got the surrey moving while Jesse circled his team around. A single-horse buggy containing Dana, Peggy Sue, and Jessica met us. Each family's queen was going to accompany us into Waco. I should have felt honored, but felt cowed instead. Jesse noticed my discomfort and just laughed.

"You'll get used to it," he called out over the sounds of the teams and wagons. "I felt that way when I first joined the family, but Peggy Sue and Annabel Lee really taught me to not be intimidated. It may take you a while, but you'll learn. You have other worries, like a wedding on Saturday for now."

He's right, of course. I needed to focus on my impending marriage and my blushing bride-to-be. We continued on and were hitched outside the dress shop once again in due time. Jesse and I were dismissed once the ladies had disembarked. I was told to go get a haircut. Jesse was told to go get a haircut. Then we were summarily dismissed. Our only recourse was to head over to the barbershop.

While there were actually two barber shops in town, we both headed for the same shop. Dion Dimucci ran an excellent shop. He had three chairs and a shoeshine stand. Twelve-year-old Delbert Shannon worked as the bootblack. He got a nickel, plus tips, for each pair of boots he shined. The men who frequented the shop really liked the boy. He would find someone had placed two bits in the jar at least twice a week. It was a boon for the boy who was the sole support for his aged (43) grandmother.

Dion had immigrated to Texas from New York and Palermo, Italy, before that. His accent was thick, to the point of being unintelligible. You sometimes had to know Italian to understand what he was saying when he went off in a rant. He was opinionated, but then, what barber isn't. There was never a dull moment at Dion's shop. One of the highlights of a trip to Dion's was the hot towel treatment. You got to lie back while Dion put a hot wet Turkish towel on your face. This usually was to soften the beard a little to help with the shave. Now those of us with light beards really didn't need it, but we relished the treatment just like the heavily-bearded gents. Dion finished my haircut and cranked the chair back so I was semi-reclining. He then retrieved the towel and gently placed it on my face. The warmth was exquisite; I closed my eyes to it.

Dion went to work on Jesse while I lay there in the barber chair. I was just in the process of dozing when the room went dark and silent. It took me a moment to realize something was wrong. Dion had stopped his incessant talking. He could orate for hours on end. He was silent right how, however, I shook my head a little to move the towel, not wanting to draw attention to myself. With the towel askance on my face, I peeked out with one eye. A ragged looking individual was filling the doorframe, blocking out the light. He held a non-descript gun in his hand.

"Now you fella's jest relax. We'll be out of here in just a couple o' moments. Then ya'll kin get back to yer jawin'.

The menacing ruffian held us at gunpoint. There was nothing we could do without serious repercussions, so we waited, and we waited. The man was beginning to get nervous. I could see beads of sweat as they poured down his face. Then we heard it.

A huge explosion rocked the building. We could see billows of smoke from the blast through the doorway. I looked at Jesse and he looked at me. We knew what was up. Someone had blown the bank up and used too much explosives in the process. The would-be robber turned his attention to the commotion in the street. I used that to my advantage and drew my Colt. Jesse had the same idea and drew his revolver at the same time. He spun his chair around so the high back metal chair afforded him some protection from the man. I slipped out of my chair and hid myself against the doorframe to the back room.

Jesse called for the man to drop his gun. He turned towards Jesse, his arm rising as he did that. Jesse didn't wait, but squeezed off several rounds. The big man tottered on his heels. I let one fly. I'd taken the time to aim and put the .44 caliber slug in the man's left temple. That was all for him. Jesse and I quickly conferred. Why was the dead man guarding the barbershop? What were the robbers going to do for a get-away?

I looked at the door, then the back room door, and finally realized their plan. They would rob the bank, take the loot out the front door of the bank, race three doors down to the doorway filled with our now dead cowboy, and finally head out the back to where we assumed a crony waited with escape horses in the alley behind the barbershop. Dion had pulled the corpse out of the doorway. He was just in time, too. Two dirty and slightly singed bank robbers ran through the doorway, guns and loot in hand, looking over their shoulders.

"Hold it right there. We've got the drop on you. Resistance is futile. You can drop 'em today and live another day, or you can resist and end up like your large friend over there." Our big words and the glint of steel convinced them to give up. We had the drop on them anyway. They gave up easily, almost too easily. I got that feeling I get sometimes. Call it a hunch. I confided my suspicions with Jesse. He agreed with me as we secured the two scoundrels. Dion had his shotgun covering them. All of this byplay took only a minute or so. We drew our guns and headed for the storeroom. We paused once we got to the back door. I ever so slowly opened the door.

I was right; there were two men in the alley, waiting for someone or something. We did the three-count countdown like Riggs and Murtaugh. Was that 3-2-1 go, on 1, or 3-2-1 and go. We decided on 3-2-1 and go, and we did.

We caught the two by surprise, but they tried to draw their guns anyway. Jesse fired at the man on the left, while I took the one on the right. I caught mine in the shoulder and the gun went flying. Jesse was definitely the better shot. He put his shot in the man's ticker. Scratch one bad guy. We brought the remaining crook inside. Dion had been interrogating the bad guys tied up inside. It wasn't pretty. He had a confession from one and corroboration from the other. Sheriff Hogg was there, a little worse for wear. He just happened to be walking his beat and was next door to the bank when it blew.

"Gosh, J.W., you look a mess," Jesse remarked.

"Yep, I shore do. But I was lucky I didn't get my head blowed off," he chuckled. I was amazed he could keep such an attitude considering what had happened.

The confession implicated a very rich and powerful politician. Hogg remarked maybe that's how he gained his wealth in the first place. It wasn't unheard of in those parts anyway. There were quite a few rich ranchers in the area who got their gain by nefarious means. Proof was always the problem. That wouldn't have been a problem in Judge Bean's jurisdiction, but they held to the law a little closer here in the civilized part of Texas.

The Sheriff's son-in-law/Deputy showed up, and with the assistance of a couple of concerned citizens, hauled the bad guys off to the jail. It was an adobe building about two feet thick and served its purpose well. The advantage was it stayed cooler in the heat of the summer and held the heat during the winter. It also tended to have the bad guys take pause before trying to bust their buddies out. But as we shall see, even that doesn't deter them sometimes.

Sheriff Hogg knew he had trouble when he heard Bart McCoy's confession. He was the boss of this crew, but he wasn't the mastermind. A certain District Attorney who had his eye on the governorship employed him. You had to have a LOT of money to pay the bribes and such, in order to be Governor. So Joshua J. Turnbull had hired Bad Bart McCoy to pull a series of stagecoach holdups and bank robberies. Things were getting desperate, though. Time was running short and Turnbull didn't have the necessary funds. Ergo, he hired it out.

McCoy was a very good bandit. He had been operating around East Texas for several years. Turnbull met him at a bar in Abbott one day. The clandestine meeting would prove to be profitable for the pair, but Bart got careless with time running out. He'd placed too much dynamite against the safe and virtually blew the building to bits. Pieces from the bank were found over two miles away the following week.

Sheriff Hogg decided he was in way over his head on this one, and sent word to Ranger Phillips that help was needed. Waite was more than obliging. He rode into Waco and was at the Sheriff's office by early afternoon. Jesse and I had our duties with the women, so we dutifully drove the wagons back after telling Ranger Phillips we'd be back. The entire ride back was a running discussion about the bank. Fortunately for the depositors, the safe was stronger than the dynamite. It stayed intact and the combination dial still worked. It was the Texas State Bank, and our money was in Wells Fargo, so we didn't have a problem anyway.

"Now you boys be careful," came Peggy Sue's admonition. "Be sure you tell my husband to watch his back!"

"Don't you worry about that, Ma'am," Jesse answered. "Me and Eugene will be right there watchin' out."

I concurred. I didn't want anything to slip up with this operation. I thought about up-timing it to get better firepower. I'd have to check on it with Waite once we got back to his office. Jesse helped his wives with their packages, and I took care of the wagon while my ladies managed their purchases. I gave the horses a quick brush down and rewarded them with a bit of grain. Jesse only had one horse to care for, so we both finished at the same time even though I started first.

"It's about time we had a little excitement," Jesse commented as we rode west. "I was getting a little bored."

"So getting shot and, and maybe even hit in the arm, doesn't phase you???" I stuttered, raising my eyebrow.

"Well, maybe just a little bit," he laughed.

"OK, I know what you mean. This little adventure promises to have a bit of excitement." Jesse nodded in agreement to my comment.

We entered the town across the new Brazos River Bridge. The pie maker was there again selling little pies. They were hot, so I got a strawberry one, and treated Jesse to the blueberry. They were excellent, as usual. We rode our horses on down to the Ranger's office. It was a couple of doors away from the jail. We dismounted and tied our horses to the hitching post. Jesse went first as the entered the Texas Ranger office. No one was there. I called out and a crippled old man slowly shuffled into view from the back a moment later.

"Well, Gents, what kin I do fer ye?" he asked, in a gravely voice.

A grizzled old Sergeant shuffled into view as we watched. I could tell this man was as good as they come, even through the years of fighting and worry. Once he stood proud and tall as the epitome of justice in a rough land. Now a shell of his former self, he still made himself useful performing a clerk's menial tasks. His eyes told his story.

"We need to see the Ranger, Sergeant," I stated. "We're here to assist with a certain venture that needs be kept secret. I don't know if he's confided in you, so I can't say more."

"Polish your dim eyes, Mr. Williams," Jesse interjected. "You know me, Jesse Jackson. I work for the Ranger at the ranch. You've been to the house for last autumn's harvest barbecue. Remember?"

"Yes, yes, now I see, young Jesse. So good to see you, so good," he agreed, then hushed his voice to a whisper. "Trouble's afoot. Secret business of Ranger Phillips. You would know where to find him. Go east to the place where the stream meets the river." He turned and disappeared again when he finished speaking.

Jesse nodded to me and jerked his head toward the door. We didn't say a word as we left the office, mounted our horses, and turned them back the way we came. We rode easy like until we crossed the Brazos. Then we put our spurs to the flanks of our horses and rode like the wind. We took the rolling hills in stride, knowing it wouldn't be long before we slipped off the road, down the tree lined creek that led back to the river. Jesse pulled up just after we turned off the road. He signaled for me to hide in the thick grove of trees just ahead. We got there just in time. A group of five rough looking characters went racing by, headed east. We waited a moment.