I did a little updating to the prologue, so you can check it out if you want. Nothing major, though:)
{Chapter 3}
Clint groaned at the town of Plateau, Arizona. He had no idea what he was doing here or why he was even trying to figure it out. Something had driven him to come to this town and Sherman Cooper, but he had no idea what.
Clint didn’t like not knowing.
He needed to make it out to the Dottie Belle Ranch as quick as possible. He shook his head when he thought of that name. What masculine man in his right mind would name his ranch that? Maybe he let his little girl name it. That was what Clint chose to believe.
Pulling up in front of a store where two old men sat playing checkers, Clint leaned down from where he sat atop his horse.
“Can one of you direct me to the Dottie Belle Ranch?” Clint asked.
One old man pushed his spectacles farther up his nose and glared at him. “The Dottie Belle, you say?”
Clint nodded.
“The what?” the other man asked, nearly yelling.
“The Dottie Belle Ranch!” the first old man said to him loudly.
“Oh-h,” the second man drew out the word. “I see.”
“You head south out of town and in about three day’s time, you’ll run into it,” the first man explained.
Clint sighed. He’d ridden father.
“Three days, you say?” he asked.
“Wha-a-t?” The second man bellowed.
“He asked if it was a three days’ ride!” the first yelled in an answered.
“Oh-h.”
“This here’s Clint Slade, that gunfighter I was tellin’ ya about!” the first man told the second.
“Oh-h.”
The first man looked back up at Clint. “Just keep followin’ the trail south and you’ll run into it. Well, maybe you turn by Susannah’s Butte. Lemme ask Clark.”
Clint shook his head.
“Hey, Clark! Do you turn by Susannah’s Butte on the way out to the Dottie Belle?” the man’s yelling was beginning to get on Clint’s already worn nerves.
When people began to get on his nerves, his hand got twitchy, and Clint would hate to have to go to jail for shooting two old coots.
“The Dottie Belle?” Clark asked loudly.
“Yes, the Dottie Belle Ranch!” the first man answered.
“Well, Sam, all you gots to do is head south until you come to those twin buttes then head west. You’ll run into the Dottie Belle Ranch thatta way.” Clark nodded slowly as he spoke.
Sam, who Clint assumed to be Clark’s checkers opponent, turned to Clint. “You heard him. You head south until you come to the Twin Buttes and then head west. It’s as easy as… as… Well, flitter fire! I done forgot the old sayin’.”
Clint put his gloved hand up. “Thank you. I’ll be on my way now.”
“What’d he say?” Clark hollered.
“He said he’d be on his way!” Sam answered back.
“Oh-h.”
Clint rolled his eyes and headed south out of town… far away from the annoying, hard-hearing old men.
*****
Bliss folded yet another newspaper and placed it with the stack of newspapers that she had already looked through.
Her father’s unexplained need to collect every newspaper that was ever printed in Plateau was getting out of hand. There where three stacks that were nearly as tall as she was. Searching for the few articles on Clint Slade was like trying a sliver off a needle in a haystack.
A big haystack.
Pulling her hair back away from her face, she stared at the stacks of newspapers. Picking another newspaper from near the bottom of the older stack, Bliss sat cross-legged on the floor and read the headline.
Slade Gang strikes again in Destin, Virginia.
Bliss reread it until she was sure that she wasn’t reading wrong.
That’s odd.
She went on to read about Joe, Abel, and Cyle Slade, but nothing of a Clint. Of course, the newspaper was from nine years ago. Clint Slade would have been just a kid then, wouldn’t he?
The rest of the newspaper was filled with news about the war that Bliss had been told about a million times. Her father relived and sometimes reenacted some part of the war every night during supper. Folding the newspaper and placing it to the side, Bliss just happened to look back over the top part of it.
The newspaper wasn’t from Plateau.
Lifting the paper back, but Bliss looked closely at the city it was located in.
Destin, Virginia.
What would Daddy be doing with a newspaper from Virginia? Bliss shook her head.
Suddenly, she heard someone running down the hall. She would know that clomping run anywhere.
Colt passed by the doorway of her father’s office where she sat and nearly ran right by, he put his hand on the doorway to stop his slippery boots before he slid right on by.
“Bliss, yo’ Daddy’s gonna kill hisself!” he panted.
Bliss arched an eyebrow at him. “What else is new?”
Colt rolled his eyes at her sarcasm. “He’s trying to ride Starke.”
Bliss rolled her eyes. “We got one bull. Just one old craggy bull for ya’ll to ride and ya’ll stick him on top of it?”
“We didn’t do any such thing!” Colt exclaimed.
“Uh huh,” Bliss said doubtfully as she placed the newspapers she had looked through back on top of the newest stack. She kept the one from Destin and folded it up. “How much money you got on the bull?”
Colt hit the floor with the toe of his boot, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, about… somewhere near… in the range of…”
“Five bucks?” Bliss folded her arms.
“Y-Yeah. I didn’t think he would actually get on him though!”
“I know you too well.” Bliss left the room and threw the newspaper she had onto the kitchen table. “Come on, let’s go save my father.”
Colt followed her and Bliss loosed at the floor.
“Colt! What did you do? You tracked mud all through this house! Let’s go before Grace finds it and kills you.” Bliss sped up her walk.
She ran out of the front door and out behind the house toward the corral where her father was surrounded by a cloud of dust as the bull bucked every which way.
Bliss walked right up to the group of cowboys where they were cheering for whichever they had bet on. She put her hands on her hips. One of the cowboys saw her and nudged the others. Every cowboy fell silent when they saw her.
Bliss rolled her eyes and walked up to the side of the corral and stared at her father. The man loved pretending to be young again. He spotted her and he immediately became unseated and slid off the back of the bull, landing flat on his back.
“Daddy!” Bliss climbed over the corral fence and ran over to him.
Two of the cowboys caught the bull and took the ropes off of him.
Daddy stood and dusted himself off.
“Are you alright?” Bliss asked.
Daddy nodded. “I’m just fine, sweetie.”
Bliss crossed her arms. “What were you thinking? You could have died!”
Daddy chuckled. “That’s not likely. I’ve been riding bulls my while life and I know how to handle them.”
She sighed. “I still don’t think you should be doing that.”
“I’m fine, ain’t I? I’m not hurt.” Daddy climbed back over the corral fence and Bliss followed him toward the house.
They passed Colt on the way there and Bliss swiped the five dollar bill out of his hand.
“Hey!” Colt protested.
“You don’t need this dirty money, do you?” Bliss teased.
Colt rolled his eyes. “You know that ain’t yours.”
“Really? You’ve owed me five dollars for two months. Remember when you bought that new saddle?” Bliss reminded, walking backwards.
Colt heaved a sigh. “I guess you’re right.”
Bliss grinned and stuffed the money in the pocket of her split skirt. “Never borrow money from a woman. Actually, don’t borrow money from anybody but Mose. He’ll just forget anyway.”
Colt chuckled and Bliss went into the house. She heard Daddy and Grace talking in the kitchen, so she went back there to get her newspaper.
She entered the room and they immediately quieted down. Bliss looked at the table to see that the newspaper she had set there wasn’t there anymore.
She arched an eyebrow. “Did ya’ll happen to see a newspaper here?”
Daddy shrugged. “Why would there be a newspaper on the table, sweetheart?”
Bliss narrowed her eyes. Maybe she had put it in her room.
No, she was sure that she had placed it there.
Looking back and forth between her father and Grace, she knew that something was going on. They both had guilty looks on their faces.
The best way to handle a situation like this was to pretend like you didn’t suspect anything. People got careless then.
She would get to the bottom of this.
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