Collier's Creek: 4 - The Stud Farm by Owen Townend

I awoke to silk sheets and the softest pillow against my cheek.

   I never thought there would be such gentility in an Old West town like Collier's Creek but, as I opened my eyes, everything was colour and neatness. Blue patterned plates with wagon trains around the rim. Embroideries with pink thread spelling out 'My Heart Got Lost in Austin' and 'Home'.

   Purple curtains fluttered against the window. I sat up to see where I was but a small firm hand pressed against my chest.

   "Rest, Mr Lawman," a soft voice said, "You're safe at the farm."

   I turned to a woman with black ringlets in her hair that suggested youth and deep green eyes that revealed age. Her heart-shaped lips formed a smile.

   "I am Aunt Margaret," she said, "You've only been asleep for an hour which is surprising considering the whack ol' Hannah gave ya! You mustn't have a head for such things!"

   Hannah. So it was her. "Where is she?"

   Aunt Margaret smoothed down the sheets and sat beside me. "She had to deal with her brother, take him on to a special place. That girl won't ever stop to apologise but I will."

   "Why'd she hit me?"

   "Hank should never have gone out on his own. That wolf..." Aunt Margaret shook her head. "Hannah and Bill are seeing to him. Far away from here."

   "Is Hank in danger?"

   "Yes and not just him now." Before Aunt Margaret could explain what she meant by that, something caught her eye outside. She marched over to the window.

   "Tommy Boden! Get your pert ass over here right now!"

   A tanned man of twenty approached the sill. His face was smeared with dirt but his chest glistened with sweat. I detected a slight hum of approval from Aunt Margaret.

   "What in tarnation is that noise by the stables?"

   Tommy pulled out a rag and ran it across his fingers. "Dale wandered onto the property again, I reckon."

   "You reckon? You reckon?" Aunt Margaret looked about set to blow. "Get over there and find out! Who's down there right now?"

   "David and Andy."
   Aunt Margaret's eyes widened. "You know David's leg! Get out there, boy! Go! Or none of that..." This last part I did not catch though I supposed it wouldn't have been proper to hear.

   She span back around and primped her scarlet dress.

   "Sweet child," she told me, "Smart as a sugar cane."

   There was still so much I didn't understand. It felt like my every question was being evaded. Hannah...

   "Oh, don't pay that girl no more mind," Aunt Margaret muttered, "She's far too busy to return the favour."

   Was I really that obvious? I pushed the sheets off me.

   "I have to go."

   "They are miles away." She hit me with a hard stare I could feel. The green of her eyes seemed to darken. "You can't keep your head straight."

   Attempting to get on my feet, I did feel dizzy.

   "Besides," Aunt Margaret said, sidling up to me, "I like my handsome faces in one place."

   For a woman of her years, she was quite the looker. Her every movement stirred something in me and that glint in her eye. So close.

   "So," she whispered and I could hear a trill in her breath, "Mr Lawman..."

   There was a build up of voices outside the door. It flew open.

   Dale, the town drunk, stumbled in: muscular arms trying to pull him back but failing. He had a broken brown bottle in his fist which he pointed at me.

   "Stranger!" he shouted and made to run for me.

   Aunt Margaret blocked his way as Tommy and four other farm hands watched sheepishly from the hall. She looked down at the bottle and slapped it out of Dale's hand.

   "What is it, Dale Jensen?" she snapped, "I ain't got time for your damn liquored tomfoolery now!"

   Another Jensen. I wished that I had my notebook: I could sketch out a family tree of sorts. Still it was in my jacket which was on the back of a chair at the other end of the room. I could not see where my pants had gone.

   Dale lowered his head at Aunt Margaret's insistent tone. "Ah'm sorry, Miss Maggie, but ah hear you've got that lowdown out-of-towner in yer cot. An' ah saw what he did!"

   "What he do?"

   "He trapped our wolf! Lured it into the mine!"

   Our wolf?

   Aunt Margaret rolled her eyes. "Was that mind rot from the Golden Horseshoe?"

   Dale nodded like a boy about to get the switch.

   "Clearly not your first of the evening!" She pointed at me. "That there is Mr Calvin Samuels! He has not been in town a day!"

   Dale's thick, grey brow furrowed as he looked at me. "That ain't the Lennox kid."

   I sat up. "You've seen him? How long ago?"

   "Sundown yesterday."

   "Is he still at the mine now?"

   Dale frowned again. "Ah can't rightly remember."

   Aunt Margaret raised a hand before I could ask another question.

   "Thank you for informing us," she said, lightly gripping Dale's shoulder. "You didn't work yourself up for nothing. Still you know the rules, Dale. This is my land." Aunt Margaret turned to the young men still waiting at the doorway. "Boys, make yourselves useful and get him on home now."

   Dale broke down as Tommy led him away. "They're all still down there! 'Tween wolf and dynamite..."

   Aunt Margaret shook her head. "This is a sanctuary for lost souls but old Dale there just keeps on losing hisself."

   My mind was on the mine. Bonnie's mother said it was the largest employer in the town. I wondered just how many were in danger. Also did the wolf actually belong to anyone? If so how?

   I tried to get out of bed again but Aunt Margaret was too fast for me.

   "Not until Hannah gets back at least," she insisted, "Please."

   I didn't like any of this. I had young Lennox's last known location but couldn't get there for vertigo and charming bedside manner. My only hope of salvation was a woman who had seen fit to club me.

   Aunt Margaret moved closer.

   "I know," she said, teasing back the bed sheets.

   A single gunshot rang out: outdoors but definitely not far away.

   "It had to be done."