Chapter 2

  I finally met him, Mina thought as she rode through the warm night. The famous singing cowboy Jesse Bartleby. The man everybody was talking about.

  Mina knew he'd once been a war hero, down in the South. But after the war the tide shifted and he'd been declared an outlaw. Since then, famous Jesse had been on the run. His men were loyal to him and loved him like a brother. They didn't desert him in his day of trouble, but stayed with him through thick and thin. They'd survived doing odd jobs, like protecting caravans of settlers on their way west or guarding money transports.

  At one point Jesse had picked up herding cattle and found he liked it. But that was mostly a job for spring and summer. In the fall and winter the cattle drives were done and the trails lay deserted.

  Not every rancher was comfortable with an entire company of outlaws working for him. What if they decided to make the herd their own out on the prairie somewhere, where nobody saw them? Neville Morlock, Mina's husband, had no such reservations. He had many men in his employ. Sometimes it seemed that fully half the cowboys in the state of Kansas worked for him.

  A bitter pall spread through Mina when she thought of Neville Morlock. Whereas Jesse Bartleby was tall and lean and muscular and broad-shouldered, her husband was ugly in every conceivable way. On the inside and on the outside. They said that fat made a man jolly, but that wasn't true in her husband's case. Fatter than fat, his appetites knew no restraints. He always acted like a spoiled child and got away with it.

  His riches made that possible.

  She could still slap herself for marrying such a mean buffoon. That had been five years ago. She'd only been nineteen. Traveling west, her parents had died of a fever, leaving Mina penniless. She sold the old mule for a small amount and lived off of that. When that money was gone, she was faced with the decision to either work in the saloon tents along the railroad being built through Kansas, or to starve. When she caught the eye of Neville Morlock and heard that he was the richest man in the state, she didn't turn down his advances. After having known the man only for a week, she agreed to become his wife. And he paraded her around like a trophy.

  Which she was.

  She realized that soon enough.

  A man of privilege and used to always getting his way, Neville Morlock never took no for an answer. He was hard to live with. Everybody in his environment suffered from his constant foul moods.

  Take the new riding habit that she was wearing right now. He'd promised it to her many times. Actually, they'd talked about it since Easter. Now it was the end of September. She finally had it made without his consent and when she showed herself to him in it today, Neville flew off the handle, ranted and raved about it being too expensive — at twenty dollars it had been costly — and worked himself into such a frenzy that he finally slapped her across the cheek, making even Mamie, the maid who'd seen it all, to cringe. Mina had left the parlor where all this had happened, had her black mare saddled, and rode away to weep alone.

  The warm evening wind had cold streaks in it now. Ahead, she could see the lighted windows of the big ranch house. She slowed her mare to a trot and patted her neck.

  Mina's thoughts returned to Jesse Bartleby.

  The cowboy and his men had appeared at the end of April. At first they were nothing more than a rumor as they remained out of sight, hidden on the prairie, not caring to manifest their presence too openly. But the ranch hands had noticed that wolves and bears no longer posed a problem to their herds.

  In May, Jesse and his men even stalled a Comanche raid. The braves had intended to steal some cattle and to rob the house, if possible. They surely would have taken Mina, too, if they would have found her. But Jesse and his gang had repelled them. They'd been a wall of protection around the ranch all summer long. After that, the Indians posed no more trouble.

  The Morlock ranch hands finally realized that they had invisible protectors out on the prairie and foreman Walter Noble went and talked to Jesse, inquiring whether he and his men were interested to sign on. However, Jesse Bartleby had told him that he'd rather be a freelancer, responsible to no one but himself. But he'd agreed to stick around and take care of things from a distance until September came. Then he and the gang would leave.

  The daily horror of living with Neville Morlock notwithstanding, the last six months under the umbrella of Jesse Bartleby and his men had been happy months.

  Mina had arrived by the stable. She dismounted and handed the reins to the waiting stable boy.

  The loud voice of her husband quarreling with somebody came through the open door of the ranch house. She braced herself and walked up the steps of the veranda. Dr. Dickerson was arguing with Neville. The physician was a regular visitor to the ranch as Mina's husband needed a lot of medical attention because of his intemperance.

  "No, Mr. Morlock, I cannot leave you with a larger dose of opium," the doctor said. "It's big enough as it is."

  Mina heard her husband hiss something that she didn't understand.

  "I pay you well enough!"

  That, she understood.

  She nodded knowingly. She was familiar with that line. Because her husband flung it around every day. He threw it into everybody's face but hers. Her he didn't have to pay. He owned her already. She was his wife.

  "I don't care how much you pay me," Dr. Dickerson replied. "The stuff will kill you. That and the cigars and the booze."

  "And my pain…!" Neville wailed.

  "If you exercise regularly, like I always say, your girth will diminish and so will your back pain." Dr. Dickerson spoke with a voice that showed that he saw through Mr. Morlock's manipulative wailings. The man wanted more opium to get off on a high, not because he was in pain.

  "You don't believe that I'm in pain!"

  "I didn't say that," Dr. Dickerson said. "What I'm saying is…"

  Mina heard the crash as some earthenware hit the ground. In a fit, Neville had probably thrown something at the good physician.

  She heard footsteps coming down the stairs. A few seconds later, a red-faced Dr. Dickerson stormed through the front door, his well-worn medical bag in hand. He almost ran into her. The doctor stopped and doffed his hat. "He's unbearable again today. Like a little child."

  "What's new?" Mina said with a wan smile. "I apologize for my husband, sir. When he's hurting, he's beside himself."

  Dr. Dickerson pointed his finger at her. "Don't you make excuses for his childishness. We wouldn't be doing him any favor if we did."

  Mina cast down her gaze. "You are right, of course. I'm sorry." She shrugged. "We're all trying to cope."

  "I'm on my way," the doctor said. He doffed his hat again and walked over to his buggy. The little sorrel that was hitched to it anxiously rolled his eyes. Even he was nervous from all the commotion in the house.

  Mina turned and looked at the open door. Just as the doctor cracked his whip and drove away, another loud crash came from the inside. Neville had flung another cup at the wall or the floor.

  Pulling herself together, Mina stepped through the door. She tried not to make a sound as she ascended the stairs to the second floor. She intended to vanish in her bedroom without having to face her husband again today. Usually Neville was better in the morning. At least for a while, until the first business people talked to him. As soon as the topic was money, he became unbearable.

  Mina had arrived at the top of the stairs. She saw big white shards lying in the hall. Neville had smashed a pitcher.

  Holding on to the banister, she paused and listened. The door to her husband's bedroom was still open and he was still ranting, but so far he hadn't noticed her. She tiptoed over to her bedroom door. But just as she'd arrived there, Neville stuck his head out of his bedroom, which was right beside hers.

  "Where are you coming from?" he hollered. Red specks covered his fat face. He wiped his wet brow with unsteady hand. Beads of sweat covered his trembling upper lip. Danger shimmered in his glazed eyes, which were pale blue like water.


  Mina immediately realized that he'd been drinking. She dreaded being alone with him when he was drunk. Since he was drunk almost every day, her life was filled with dread. Her existence was such a miserable one.

  "Come here!" Neville Morlock screamed. The fat man quickly grasped her wrist and pulled her into his bedroom. Mina didn't resist. Resisting would only aggravate him and then he'd turn violent again.

  Neville looked at the object in her hand. He pried from her fingers. "What's that?" he barked.

  Mina's heart sank. Without realizing it, she'd been hanging on to innocent Jesse Bartleby's handkerchief. And now her husband had found it.

  "Since when are you carrying red-checkered handkerchiefs? Is silk not good enough for you anymore? This is cheap cotton! Did you rob the maid? Are you taking stuff from the colored folks now?"

  He let go of her hand, took the handkerchief and unfolded it. Pinched between thumbs and index fingers, he held the cloth up to her. "This is none of ours!" He glared at her. Steam was building in him.

  "Where have you been?"

  "Nowhere," Mina said, looking sideways.

  "Look at this cloth." He held it up to his face. Something caught his attention. "I read a name here," he said.

  But…" Mina said.

  "Can you read this?" Morlock demanded.

  Mina's gaze was on the ground. Out in the hall, Mamie was sweeping up the shards. She heard the even motions of the maid's broom as it was pushed along on the parquet floor.

  "It says Jesse Bartleby!" Neville Morlock roared. "Care to tell me how you got possession of his kerchief?"

  Hot tears rolled out of Mina's eyes. They streaked down her cheeks and soaked into her collar.

  "You are meeting with a cowboy behind my back? With an outlaw? You are two-timing me with a man who can't show his face in public because he's a wanted man?" The rancher breathed sharply.

  "It's not like you think," Mina said.

  "It never is!" Morlock screamed, cotton flying from his mouth. Marching around the room, he threw curses at her. Then he drew back and smacked his pale wife again.

  Out in the hall, Mamie kept on sweeping.