The Whippoorwill Trilogy - Sharon Sala Page 0,57

only one who comes back with a bloody nose.”

“Dang, honey, Arnold Detter is twice my size.”

“And Pearl is near twice Baby’s size.”

The smile slid off of Isaac’s face. “I get the message.”

Minna stood in the doorway and waved until she could no longer see so much as a dust trail. After that, she went inside, cried until she gave herself a headache, then walked up the hillside toward seven small tombstones and sat down among the wildflowers that blanketed her babies in a way she could not.

Crawler’s Mill was no different from any other territory town except that it had no mill to explain the significance of the name. Main Street was the only street, and it was head high in dust when it was dry and knee high in mud when it rained.

The general store was the only establishment that welcomed women as customers. The other businesses, few though they were, catered solely to men, which was the way of the west at this time.

Dump’s Saloon was a dump, but it was Dump Smith’s pride and joy. Where else could a man with his sparse abilities and education make a living such as this? In a land where shade and drink were at a premium, he boasted the only place this side of Lizard Flats where both were available and only one for sale.

Each year, he promised himself that he was going to retire and go back East where civilized amenities abounded. He had a hankering for houses with fine floors and indoor baths. Where everyone he met didn’t smell like sweat, horses and manure, or a combination of all three. And this year, like all the rest, he found another reason to stay on. The reasons never amounted to much, but in spite of his grandiose plans, it didn’t take much to satisfy Dump Smith.

Detter’s Blacksmith and Livery did a good business as well. Arnold Detter could shoe a horse in the blink of an eye and was training his young son to follow in his footsteps. It gave the residents of Crawler’s Mill and the surrounding area a sense of stability to know that there were two generations of blacksmiths at their disposal.

Arnold’s son, Pearl, was still young, but for a boy of ten, quite strong and as brawny as some men. Unfortunately for Pearl, his opinion of himself was larger than he was. More than once, he’d gone to bed with a fat lip and skinned knuckles, compliments of the fights he’d had with bigger boys who’d laughed at his name.

When the new teacher started a school, Pearl had been delighted to learn there was one youth in the territory that had a name worse than his own. Pearl Detter decided that making Baby Boy Jessup’s life a living hell might alleviate some of his own.

The plan worked clear through the first week of school. After that, Baby Boy Jessup didn’t come back and Pearl was again on the defense, daily pounding the jeers from other boy’s lips. That was why when Pearl heard the squeak of a wagon wheel in need of grease and turned to look, he began grinning from ear to ear. It was the Jessup wagon that was coming toward their livery.

While Pearl was gloating at his good fortune, Baby Boy flinched in fear as his father turned toward the stables.

“Pa! What are we going to the livery for?”

Isaac heard the terror in his son’s voice, but could find no words to explain that his son must face his nemesis. With every day that passed, Pearl Detter became bigger in Baby’s mind than he actually was.

“Wheel squeaks.”

Baby knew that. It had been squeaking all the way to town. Had he realized the significance of it, he might have bolted from the seat and run back home. It was too late now. Pearl Detter was coming out of the livery with a smile on his face.

“Mr. Jessup. Baby Boy. What can I do for you?” Pearl relished the silly sound of the boy’s name on his tongue.

Isaac heard the taunt in Pearl Detter’s voice and, for the first time, began to understand the hell his son had been enduring at his expense.

“My wheel’s a squeakin’, Ruby. I wondered if you had any wheel grease.”

Baby gawked. Pa knew the Detter boy’s name was Pearl. He fidgeted on the seat, certain now that when Pearl got the chance he’d whomp him twice for his pa’s insult.

Pearl frowned. “My name is Pearl, Mr. Jessup. Not Ruby.”

Isaac