Hell for Leather

He woke up in bed being attended to by Dr. Collinge.

“Am I dead?” he asked weakly, startling the good doctor who had been examining his wound.

“It would appear not.” replied the doctor.

“Zeke?” Alaine’s voice was unmistakable, “Are you awake?” Zeke’s eyes struggled to focus. There, bathed in light was an angel. Glorious illumination spilled around her and lit her like a star. She was wearing a white dress and smiling at him. His heart filled with joy. It was Alaine standing in front of a sunlit window. “Thank God.” she whispered and rushed to hug his neck.

“Where am I?” he rasped.

“Betty Hammond’s boardinghouse.” replied the doctor. Zeke took a look around. Alaine’s face was bruised on one side and her lip had been split as well but she was beaming. The door to the room opened and Smythe entered followed by a well-dressed man.

“Good show, doctor.” exclaimed Smythe, “Mr. McAllister,” Smythe grabbed Zeke’s hand and shook it vigorously, causing him to wince, “I’m so happy to see you survive.” The well-dressed man extended his hand.

“Mr. McAllister, my name is Arthur Pence.”

“My husband.” said Alaine with little enthusiasm.

“I owe you a great debt.” continued Arthur, “From what Alaine has told me, you saved her life on more than one occasion.”

“My pleasure.” said Zeke, suddenly feeling much worse.

“Are you feeling all right?” asked Arthur, “All of the color drained from your face just now.”

“I’m fine.” said Zeke.

“Zeke is the sort who wouldn’t tell you if he was hurt.” offered Alaine.

“You’ve got quite an acolyte in my young wife, sir.” said Arthur, “In fact, she’s been at your side and has refused to leave town until you are feeling better.”

“Leave?” asked Zeke.

“For San Francisco.” replied Arthur as Alaine stared at the floor.

“Oh.” said Zeke, “Right.”

“But not until you are feeling better.” said Alaine. An uncomfortable silence settled over the room. Smythe cleared his throat.

“Well,” he said, “we should let you convalesce in peace, eh? As soon as you wish, we can discuss your reward.”

“It was a pleasure meeting you.” said Arthur, “And thank you again.” Zeke made no reply as they moved to the door. Alaine stood still. “Darling,” continued Arthur, “we should let the man rest.”

“I’ll be right down.” she said. Arthur, Smythe and the doctor left the room. Zeke and Alaine regarded one another in silence for a long while, then she moved closer and sat on the edge of the bed.

“You look like you’ve been in a Mexican saloon fight.” observed Zeke.

“And you look like you’ve lost a Mexican saloon fight.” They smiled at each other.

“So,” continued Zeke after a moment, “San Francisco, huh?” Alaine returned her gaze to the floor.

“Zeke,” her voice was barely audible, “I have to go.”

“I know.”

“Will you come visit?”

“Sure.” Alaine knew he wouldn’t.

“Will you ever change?” she asked, “Will you ever say something when you’re hurting?”

“Probably not.” said Zeke as tears filled Alaine’s eyes.

“I should go.” she stood up, “You need your rest.”

“Yeah.” agreed Zeke with no conviction.

“Goodbye,” she said, bending over to kiss his forehead, “I’ll come round tomorrow to check in on you.” Zeke forced a smile and Alaine forced her tears back as she exited the room. Zeke had never felt worse in his whole life.

After a few days, Zeke was well enough to stand, even well enough to walk and though he really didn’t want to, he went down to the street to see Alaine off. Arthur sat in the stagecoach as they bid each other farewell on the front porch of Betty Hammond’s boardinghouse. Smythe stood nearby.

“I have to leave.” said Alaine, “We’re going with a group of waggoners.”

“No train?” asked Zeke.

“I’ve quite had my fill of trains.” Alaine smiled.

“I reckon you have.” replied Zeke.

“Thank you.” said Alaine, “For everything.” Her bruises were almost gone.

“Anytime.” said Zeke. Alaine extended her hand and Zeke accepted it as an equal. No one else could see it, but fires burned in their eyes. “Stay safe.” said Zeke.

“I will.” smiled Alaine before turning away and quickly hopping aboard the coach before her emotions overwhelmed her. The driver whipped the horses and the coach pulled away. Zeke watched it leave until he could no longer see it.

“Come, Mr. McAllister,” said Smythe, “let’s get you back in bed.” As Smythe helped Zeke up the stairs, he said, “Tomorrow, if you’re feeling up to it, I’d like to treat you to one of Harold Cooper’s delicious steaks and hear all about your adventure.”

“Sure.” replied Zeke getting into bed.

“Jolly good.” said Smythe, “Tomorrow then.”

Zeke lay in bed all that day unable to think of anything but Alaine. He envisioned their life together. House. Children. Such bliss. A heaven he would never know. Hot tears stung his cheeks and he was glad no one was there to see them.

The next day around suppertime, Smythe arrived to make good on his threat to buy him one of Harold’s steaks. English food must be terrible, thought Zeke, if he thinks Harold has good cuts of meat. Regardless, Zeke obliged him if for no other reason than to have some distraction from these thoughts of Alaine he seemed unable to escape.

Smythe was a man of quite a few words Zeke began to realize. As they walked from Betty’s to the saloon, he scarcely seemed to breathe without saying a word or two. Zeke wasn’t exactly listening.

“…married him as per her father’s wishes…”

“…to San Francisco to oversee her father’s interests…”

“…not very talented…” “…gambling debt…”

Zeke wasn’t interested. As they settled into their chairs, Smythe produced two expensive cigars and offered one to Zeke, which he accepted.

“But listen to me,” continued Arthur, “talking ceaselessly when it’s your story I wish to hear.”

“Yeah.” said Zeke, “I’m sure Alaine already told you most of it.”

“Indeed she did.” he replied, lighting their cigars, “but I would like to hear your version of events. A man’s perspective, as it were. It sounds like it was quite a harrowing ordeal.” Zeke puffed on his cigar.

“Well,” said Zeke, “I’ll allow it was a lot harder than it needed to be.” He leveled a disapproving glare at Smythe who seemed honestly confused.

“How do you mean?” he asked.

“Let’s just say that when you send out more than one man on a job, it creates problems.”

“More than one? What the devil are you talking about?”

“Don’t play coy.” admonished Zeke, “I know you sent Clayton after the same prize you sent me and let me tell you, just because you found us the same way and just because he was part of that same robbery does not mean I’m anything like him. He’s a real dangerous character. You should be more careful who you hire in the future.” Smythe’s brow was wrinkled with befuddlement.

“Mr. McAllister,” he said gravely, “I assure you, I have no idea what you’re saying. You are the only man to whom I entrusted this task.”

“Horse shit.” spat Zeke, “If that’s true, then how in the hell did Clayton just happened to be…”

Then it hit him.

That robbery. It was Clayton’s plan but he had mentioned some privileged information.

Arthur.

The shipment had contained assets of Smythe’s employer. Alaine’s father. Arthur’s boss.

Gambling debts, Smythe had mentioned. Arthur’s debts. He was mismanaging the company. He had hired Clayton to rob the stagecoach but even that had failed. It was Clayton’s band that had attacked the train looking for Alaine. Arthur wanted her dead so he would inherit her wealth. It was he who had examined the women that day at the camp and not finding what he was after, rode away.

He meant to kill her.

Zeke bolted from his chair and moved as fast as he could back to the boarding house where his guns sat waiting for him. Smythe followed close behind him.

“Mr. Mcallister,” he said, struggling to keep up, “what’s the meaning of all this?”

“Arthur aims to kill Alaine.”

“What?” Smythe was incredulous, “That’s ridiculous.” Zeke stopped to face him.

“Clayton was there at the robbery. It was his plan. Somebody hired him. It was someone from your company. The band that attacked the train was looking for only one woman, but they didn’t know which one, so they had to take everyone that fit the description. Clayton mentioned her by name. There’s only one way he could have known that if you didn’t send him. Alaine is in danger.” Zeke set off again at a quicker pace.

“My God.” whispered Smythe before snapping back to the present and hurrying after Zeke, “What are you going to do? You’re injured.”

“To hell with that.” answered Zeke, “I’m going to get her back and if he’s hurt her, I’m gonna drag him back here by his heels and hang whatever’s left.”