True Grit

Chapter 4

The next morning. Mattie opened her eyes, her body drenched in sweat, and she slowly surveyed her surroundings. The room appeared dimly lit, with faint daylight filtering through the curtained window behind a man seated in a straight-back chair. A haze of pipe smoke lingered in the air as he exhaled, creating an ethereal atmosphere. Mattie struggled to focus her bleary eyes on the man before her. "You are sleeping the day away," remarked the man in a deep, rugged voice, betraying a hint of amusement. Mattie let out a weary sigh and responded, "I am not well." The man stood up, his spurs jingling with each step, and crossed the room to the window. With a swift motion, he pulled open the curtains, flooding the room with bright daylight. Mattie squinted against the sudden illumination, attempting to discern the features of the man who stood before her. He had a distinctive cowlick atop his head and ears that jutted out like barn doors, adding to his rugged appearance. Once again, he was dressed impeccably for riding, emphasizing his role as a cowboy. Returning to his seat, the man introduced himself as LeBoeuf, his name rolling off his tongue with a sense of familiarity. "You do not look well," he observed. "My name is LeBoeuf. I have just come from Yell County." Mattie's curiosity was piqued, and she mustered the strength to inquire, "Hm. What was your business there?" LeBoeuf reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a small photograph, carefully presenting it to Mattie. She gazed at the picture through her red-rimmed eyes, recognizing the face before her. "You called him Tom Chaney, I believe," she reluctantly admitted. LeBoeuf nodded, acknowledging her statement. "Indeed, though in the months I have been tracking him, he has used various aliases such as Theron Chelmsford and John Todd Andersen." LeBoeuf paused, relaying the information he had gathered. "He dallied in Monroe, Louisiana, and Pine Bluff, Arkansas before turning up at your father's place." Mattie's mind raced, attempting to comprehend the path that brought this dangerous man to her family's doorstep. Frustrated, she posed a question to LeBoeuf, "Why did you not catch him in Monroe, Louisiana, or Pine Bluff, Arkansas?" LeBoeuf chuckled, considering the cunning nature of his quarry. "He was quite crafty, an expert at deception. I had underestimated him, thinking him slow-witted," he confessed, a touch of admiration evident in his voice. "Well, it was a good act," Mattie conceded, acknowledging the skill of the man they pursued. She then directed a skeptical gaze at LeBoeuf and asked, "Are you some kind of law?" With a self-assured grin, LeBoeuf leaned back in his chair, revealing a glimmering star on his chest. "That's right. I am a Texas Ranger," he declared a hint of smugness in his demeanor.

As Mattie weighed LeBoeuf's proposition, her determination intertwined with caution. She recognized the need for assistance in capturing Tom Chaney and bringing him to justice, but she also remained fiercely loyal to her chosen partner, Marshal Cogburn. LeBoeuf's persistence, however, sparked a glimmer of pragmatism within her. "That may make you a big noise in that state; in Arkansas, you should mind that your Texas trappings and title do not make you an object of fun. Why have you been ineffectually pursuing Chaney?" Mattie questioned, her voice tinged with a hint of skepticism. LeBoeuf's smile remained firmly planted on his face, a visible testament to his effort to maintain composure. "He shot and killed a state senator named Bibbs down in Waco, Texas. The Bibbs family has put out a reward," LeBoeuf explained, his tone steady and composed. Mattie's curiosity deepened as she absorbed this new information. "How did Chaney come to shoot a state senator?" she inquired, hoping to piece together the motive behind the act of violence. "My understanding is there was an argument about a dog," LeBoeuf replied, revealing a sense of absurdity behind the circumstances. Mattie's brows furrowed at the notion, struggling to reconcile the triviality of the initial dispute with the magnitude of the consequences. Sensing her dissatisfaction, LeBoeuf shifted the conversation back to the matter at hand. "Do you know anything about where Chaney has gone?" he asked, his eyes fixated on Mattie. "He is in the Territory, and I hold out little hope for you earning your bounty," Mattie declared firmly, confident in her knowledge of Chaney's whereabouts. "Why is that?" LeBoeuf inquired, a hint of curiosity coloring his voice. "My man will beat you to it. I have hired a deputy marshal, the toughest one they have, and he is familiar with the Lucky Ned Pepper gang that they say Chaney has tied up with," Mattie revealed, a note of pride resonating in her words. She believed she had taken the necessary steps to ensure success in her mission. LeBoeuf's eyes narrowed, his interest piqued by Mattie's revelation. "Well, I will throw in with you and your marshal," he proposed, his voice filled with conviction. Mattie hesitated, conflicted between the assurance of her current partnership and the potential benefits of adding LeBoeuf's expertise to their cause. "No, Marshal Cogburn and I are fine," Mattie responded, her loyalty unwavering. However, LeBoeuf persisted, appealing to the practicality of their collaboration. "It'll be to our mutual advantage. Your marshal, I presume, knows the Territory; I know Chaney. It is at least a two-man job taking him alive," he argued persuasively. Mattie's resolve wavered, and after a moment of contemplation, she relented. "Very well," she conceded, recognizing the logic in LeBoeuf's words. "We shall join forces, but on one condition: our primary allegiance remains to Marshal Cogburn. I will not allow any distractions or disputes to hinder our pursuit of justice." LeBoeuf nodded in agreement, accepting Mattie's terms. Their shared purpose now solidified, Mattie, LeBoeuf, and Marshal Cogburn would embark on a perilous journey into the Territory, united by their determination, expertise, and unwavering pursuit of capturing Tom Chaney and avenging the murder of Mattie's father. The path ahead would be fraught with danger, but their collective strength and resolve would carry them forward as they ventured into the heart of the unknown.

Mattie squinted at the bottle on the nightstand, her vision blurred and hazy. The label read "Dr. Underwood's" in faded letters, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of skepticism towards the concoction. However, her weariness and the promise of its medicinal effects compelled her to give it a try. With great effort, Mattie pushed herself up to an elbow and reached for the ceramic cup. The liquid inside had a peculiar aroma, a mixture of herbs and chemicals that made her nose wrinkle in response. Despite her reservations, she took a deep breath and swallowed the contents in one gulp. As the liquid coursed through her body, faint dizziness washed over her, causing the room to sway in her vision. Mattie fought to maintain her composure, reminding herself that this was the medicine taking effect. She sank back onto the pillow, feeling the weight of exhaustion pressing against her. The clunk of the bottle being placed back on the nightstand echoed in the room, and Mattie's eyelids grew heavy as she succumbed to the weariness. Shadows stretched across the walls, enveloping the room in darkness. Amid her drowsiness, distant voices from the street filtered through the windows, mixing with the sound of a clanging church bell. Mattie's senses were dulled, her mind drifting in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, the presence of the landlady materialized by her side. The woman's figure loomed over Mattie, offering a semblance of care and assistance. A bottle in hand, she poured something into the ceramic cup once again. "Try some more of Dr. Underwood's. You may feel giddy but do not be alarmed, as that is only the medicine working," the landlady advised in a soothing tone. Mattie, obedient yet weary, exerted one last effort to prop herself up and reach for the cup. She drank the liquid, feeling its bitter taste slide down her throat. Then, she let herself surrender to the weariness that overwhelmed her, sinking back onto the pillow as her eyelids drooped. The room faded into a blur of shadows and whispers, as sleep claimed her once more, taking her on a journey far from the dimly lit room and the man named LeBoeuf, who had stirred within her a mix of defiance and apprehension.