Tabitha and the Stagecoach Robbery

 

What had she let herself in for? Grit covered Tabitha’s clothes, scoured her skin, and irritated her eyes. What had she been thinking to set up a mail-order marriage? And to a rancher when she’d always lived in town? She reminded herself she had no other option unless she wanted to live with her brother and his snippy wife in Illinois for the rest of her life. Papa should have left half the business to her. Instead, everything went to her brother and she was a poor relation no better than a servant. She could become a governess or school marm, neither of which could give her a home of her own. If Tabitha were to be a servant, at least she intended to have a house complete with husband and children. Why couldn’t she stand up for herself for once? The closest she’d ever come was to defend making this awful trip to marry a man she’d never met.

 

Almost worse than the discomfort of the stagecoach ride was the speculative gaze of the man who’d sat across from her since the coach had left San Antonio two hours ago. Not improper, but constant. He’d wedged himself into the corner and pretended to nap, but she knew he watched her beneath his gaze. Just as he watched the man beside him. Why didn’t he speak instead of just taking in everything? In spite of the heat, a shiver ran up her spine.

 

She wondered what she’d do if her prospective groom resembled the man across from her? Would she be able to marry a man like him? Back home in Illinois the thought of marrying a stranger didn’t seem so formidable. But now? She hadn’t pictured the west’s rustic looking men when she agreed to the marriage. What if she couldn’t go through with the wedding? At least she had Grandma’s nest egg to tide her for a while if she changed her mind about her Mr. Pearson. She smiled to herself, remembering the formal style of his letters. Was he as nervous as she was?

 

Beside her sat Louise and Fern Dixon, elderly sisters in route to visit kin in Bandera. The other male passenger was cleanly shaven and dressed in a business suit—even if the suit didn’t quite fit and the waistcoat was an unbecoming shade of pumpkin. He smiled and chatted with roguish charm. He introduced himself only Pete Callaway, and said he was en route to Bandera on business. When asked by Louise about his business, he answered banking.

 

Leaning forward, Fern said, “We heard there’ve been several robberies in this area.”

 

Louise asked, “We saw the driver load a strongbox on to the top beside him. Do you gentlemen think that held a payroll?”

 

Mr. Callaway smiled, “No need to worry. The stage line hires a guard to ride shotgun when there’s a payroll on board.”

 

The silent man checked his pocket watch. “We’ll be arriving at a the next town in a half an hour, ladies.”  His voice was deep and gravelly, and it sent chills through Tabitha. She could imagine him saying, “Stick ‘em up.”

 

Louise patted her sister’s arm.  “It will feel good to stretch our legs, won’t it, Fern.”

 

Bang! Bang! Sudden gunshots sent Tabitha’s heart pounding with fear. The stage rumbled to a stop. When she looked at the other occupants, she realized Pete was pointing a gun at the man across from her. Clearly his interest in banking was robbing them—and stagecoaches. Louise and Fern clung to one another and sobbed.

 

Pete flung open the door and gestured them to exit.

 “Everyone do as you’re told and maybe you’ll live to see sundown. I’m watching you, Matt. One wrong move and you’re dead. Toss down your gun then get out of the stage.”

 

The man called Matt dropped his pistol and climbed down. He turned to help the ladies exit. His eyes widened and his brows raised when he grasped Tabitha around the waist to help her descend. Thank goodness he said nothing about her excess weight for her slim size.

 

Three rough looking men on horseback cantered up to the stage. Two of them swiftly moved to the stage’s roof and tossed the strongbox to the ground. One man jumped down and shook out canvas bags while another of the criminals shot the locks off the strong box. The two on the ground shoved the box’s cash and coins into the sacks and tied them onto horses. Pete searched the women’s purses and Matt’s wallet. The remaining robber atop the stage tossed down the driver’s rifle and Colt and ordered the driver off the coach.

 

Blood ran down the driver’s arm and shirt from gunshot wounds delivered by the hold up men. The driver looked ready to pass out as he climbed down from his post. He faltered and all eyes focused on him.

 

With one continuous move, Matt pulled a gun from his boot, shoved Tabitha behind him, and shot the nearest outlaw. Pete shot Matt, but not before Matt delivered a shot that sent Pete’s gun flying. Matt slowly folded and sank onto the dirt, apparently unconscious, as blood seeped from shoulder and leg wounds. The three women cried out in horror.

 

A lanky outlaw yelled, “Come on, boys! We got the payroll, let’s ride.”

 

Pete picked up his Colt with bloody fingers, then jerked Tabitha’s arm, “I’m taking her with me.”

 

Matt lay on the ground near the coach’s wheel. His eyes opened. “Leave her alone.” He grabbed the spokes and tried to rise, but fell back against the rim. He reached for the gun he’d dropped, but Pete kicked it away.

 

That did it! All her life Tabitha had been pushed around and told what to do. She jerked free of Pete’s fist, stomped her foot, and yelled, “No! I’ll not go anywhere with you.” She stepped back until her back brushed the coach.

 

Advancing, Pete said, “You’re coming with me, Miss High and Mighty. You’ll be begging me for mercy by nightfall.”

 

“I said no!” Tabitha hauled back and delivered a punch to Pete’s jaw the way her brother had shown her when they were teens. When Pete fell, she followed with a well-placed kick to his nether regions. As he lay cursing, she grabbed the gun he’d dropped.

 

Hoping she sounded convincing, she said, “Get on your horse and go or I’ll shoot your no good carcass full of holes.”

 

The lanky man who appeared to be the leader yelled, “Let her be, Pete. We got what we came for. Let’s get out of here while you can still mount a horse.”

 

“I’ll find you, Missy, no matter where you go.” Pete struggled toward his horse. “I’ll make you sorry you messed with me.”

 

Matt crawled to his gun and shot Pete as the man tried to climb into the saddle. Surprised, Tabitha jumped, which pulled the trigger and winged the leader. Outlaws began firing and Tabitha rolled under the stagecoach. The screaming Dixon sisters and the driver scrambled after her. Matt crawled around the end of the vehicle, firing as he moved.

 

The wounded driver grabbed Tabitha’s gun. “Good shootin’, little lady. Let me try.” He shot the gang leader and the man toppled from his horse.

 

The two remaining outlaws grabbed the loose reins of the riderless horses and tried to canter away.

 

Matt yelled, “Give up or you’re all dead.” His bullet struck one of the men before the man got off his own shot, and the outlaw dropped from his horse. The other ruffian raised his hands. After crawling from beneath the coach, the driver gathered the outlaw’s guns. Tabitha rushed to help Matt.

 

“Don’t get between me and those men.” Matt said. “Get me the rope that’s tying down the baggage.”

 

The wounded driver and Tabitha tied the two outlaws who were still alive, then Matt and the driver shoved them onto the stage’s roof.  Matt and the driver slung Pete and the leader each across his horse’s saddle. The reins of  outlaws’ horses were tied to the back of the coach. Restored to the strong box, the payroll once again rode near the driver.

 

The driver nudged Matt toward the open coach door. “I can take ‘er from here, young man. You look ready to drop.”

 

“I’m played out.” Matt staggered and climbed in.

 

Louise and Fern fussed over Matt. With Tabitha’s help, the driver clambered up to the front seat atop the stage.

 

Tabitha hefted herself onto the bench beside Matt. She slumped against the seat. Had it only been hours instead of days since they’d left San Antonio?

 

“Heeyaaa!” The driver cracked a whip and the stage rumbled down the trail.

 

Tabitha stared at the man beside her. He pressed a handkerchief to his shoulder. “How serious are your wounds? Our driver said the next town has a doctor.”

 

“I’ll be fine. Survived worse than this.” Matt met Tabitha’s gaze. “Quick thinking, sucker punching Pete like that.”

 

“You knew him?”

 

“Been expectin’ him.”

 

Fern Dixon leaned forward. “Young man, are you a lawman?”

 

“Most of the time I’m a rancher. Hired on to protect this payroll run.” He turned back to Tabitha. “There’s a thousand dollar reward for the capture of this gang. Reckon it’ll go to you.”

 

“A thousand dollars?” Thank you, Lord.

 

“Course, I guess you don’t need it with all you’ve got on you.” Matt smiled at her. “Clever trick, sewing money inside your clothes.”

 

Tabitha shuddered at the memory. “Not if that Pete person had lifted me onto his horse. I fear he’d have ripped off my clothes right there. I have to thank you for not revealing your knowledge in front of that man.”

 

“Worried for a little while back there, but I wouldn’t have given you away. Besides, I have an interest in your welfare.”

 

She blinked at him in question. “You do?”

 

He smiled and tilted his head. “Allow me to introduce myself. Pearson’s the name. Mr. M. Pearson.”

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A Job Is A Job

At eight on Monday morning I fluffed my curls, and tugged at the gray uniform that almost matched my hair. My stomach churned so violently I thought I might be sick. This was my big chance, though, so I rang the bell.

A giant in a brown suit opened the door. "Yeah? Whataya want?"

I took a deep breath and plunged ahead before I lost my nerve and ran. "I'm Mrs. Holloway, the replacement maid. Merilee had to rush out of town, so she sent me in her place."

He crossed his arms and glared. "I don't know nothing about no replacement,"

"Well, of course you don't. Perhaps you could let me in and I'll start cleaning while you consult Mr. Turrentino."

Reluctantly, he let me inside the foyer where another hulk stood, this one in a hideously striped navy suit. "You wait here," the first giant said and walked away. After three steps, he turned back to warn me before he left. "Don't touch nothing. Jon, watch she don't put nothing in or take nothing out of that bag."

My shaking limbs barely supported me, but I fought down my panic. No matter how frightening, a job is a job and I had to make this work. The hulk stood at attention, but I knew he watched me from the corner of his eyes. I placed my tote bag on the floor and waited, looking around at my palatial surroundings.

White marble foyer floors gave way to lush white carpet. In the room ahead, I glimpsed a carved white marble fireplace with cherubs carved so they appeared to be holding up the mantle. Gold accents were everywhere I looked. Gold pillows graced the ends of the long L-shaped sofa in the room ahead. A huge crystal chandelier hung from gold-toned fittings. The staircase even featured a gold-toned banister. This might sound lovely, but somehow it all appeared gaudy and overdone. Mr. Turrentino definitely had money, but lacked refined tastes.

The giant in brown returned and motioned me to follow him. I grabbed my tote bag and tucked the handles over my arm as I fell in step behind him. He led me down a hallway and into a massive office. The man at the desk raised his head and glowered at me. From news photos, I recognized him as Tommy Turrentino. He'd been dubbed Teflon Tom by the press. Even though he was the reputed boss of a wide-spread crime syndicate, no one had made charges stick for a conviction.

"Lennie said you think you're gonna replace my Merilee. What's this about? You think I'm crazy or somethin'?"

Hmph, his Merilee indeed! "Good morning, Mr. Turrentino," I said as if we were acquainted. "I'm Mabel Holloway. Merilee had to rush off on some sort of family emergency, and she asked me to fill in for her until she returns."

Turrentino narrowed his eyes. "She ain't got no family."

I shrugged. "She must have at least one family member, because I distinctly remember her saying a family emergency. I live next door to her, you see. She banged on my door last night and asked me to cover for her."

He said nothing, but I thought he must be trying to make up his mind whether or not someone sent me and what to do if they had.

Hoping to influence his decision, I said, "I know I'm not the sort of maid you usually hire, but I assure you I can do the job. Merilee has mentioned how carefully she cleans and all the special care she takes with your beautiful home. She expects only to be gone a few days, and wants her job waiting when she returns."

I hated the lie. Merilee said she was demoted to maid after Mr. Turrentino tired of her as his mistress. She added that only attractive women were allowed to work at the mansion, and I was about forty years and thirty pounds past attractive.

"You know where she's gone?"

"No, she said she didn't have time to explain it all and would tell me when she comes home. I don't hear well, you see, so I have to watch a person's mouth and read lips to understand everything. Merilee just didn't have time to indulge me."

He nodded toward the canvas carryall. "What's in the bag?"

Lennie's hand slid inside his jacket when I reached into my tote. "I don't see what possible interest it could be to you, but I have a sweater-it will be cool by the time I leave and wait for the bus. Here is a second pair of shoes in case my feet start hurting-maybe you know how much changing shoes can help aching feet-and a change of clothes in case I muss myself cleaning. And the latest best seller to read on the bus. I'm an avid reader, and always have a book with me."

I stuffed my things back in the bag. "Now, don't you worry about the social security and payroll deductions and all that. Merilee said she would pay me when she gets back and save you all that bother."

He nodded but still glowered. "Okay, get started, but watch it."

I puffed up as if insulted. "Mr. Turrentino, I knew how to clean before you were out of school. I may not be as young or as attractive as Merilee and your other cleaning staff, but I assure you I am extremely efficient and I plan to do a thorough job."

He snorted as if he doubted my claim, but waved me from the room. "Check her out and call me, then get over to the south side," he told Lennie as I left.

"Sure thing, boss." Lennie slipped past me and crooked a finger for me to follow him. He headed for the back of the house where he showed me the closet where cleaning supplies were stored. He looked me up and down. "You better be on the square or you're gonna be one sorry old lady." He turned and I heard an outside door close. Soon car wheels crunched against the gravel drive.

Merilee had given me detailed instructions, so I went right to work. I polished and shined as if my life depended on it. With a guy like Tommy Turrentino, it probably did. I worked fast, careful of the priceless art collection and treasures everywhere I looked.

Outside I heard lawn care machinery, then it faded without my ever seeing a gardener. Later the sound of a vacuum made me look up where a lovely young woman worked on the balcony. She moved quickly, and was soon out of sight as she moved from the balcony into an upstairs room. Merilee had told me the other woman's name and that I would not be expected to vacuum downstairs until tomorrow. I didn't care one way or the other. No matter how hard, a job is a job and I had to do this one well.

At eleven a slinky blonde came down the stairs. From Merilee's description, I knew this had to be Desiree. My, she was gorgeous but not, of course, as lovely as Merilee-or my own daughter, Lisa. I kept my head down but I watched her from under my lashes. Twenty-two and already Desiree had ruined her life by associating with Turrentino. She drafted the hulk in the navy suit to drive her on a shopping expedition. Hmm, I thought, better enjoy it while you can.

Poor Merilee, to have lived here as this man's intimate, showered with expensive gifts, and then given the choice of serving as maid or as a call girl once he found someone new. How humiliating for her. How she'd cried as she told me her story. How tragic her situation. At twenty-seven, she hardly looked past her prime, but she felt trapped in Turrentino's web.

It neared five and soon I would leave to catch my bus home. All day I had worked, hardly pausing for the lunch the cook provided. No matter how difficult, a job is a job and I needed to finish mine.

Except for the upstairs maid and the cook, Mr. Turrentino and I were now alone in the house, though I suspected others would soon drift in. I moved into his office, careful to make no noise to annoy him. He had his back to me, looking out the window as he spoke on the phone.

At a ten of five, I reached inside my bra and slipped out the little gun. From the other side of my bra, I pulled the little silencer and connected it to the gun then slid it into my carryall of cleaning supplies and dropped an extra polishing cloth over it.

Smoothing oil onto the paneling, I worked my way across the room. As he hung up he turned around. I kept my back to him.

"Hey, get out. I don't want you in here."

I kept working without any sign I'd heard. "Damned hard of hearing old biddy." I heard him rise, but the phone rang and he returned to his chair and picked up the receiver. "Yeah."

Now I was close to him. He turned his back again as he listened to the call. I knew I had only a few minutes or someone else might come in, so I gripped my little gun. When I was close enough to touch his shoulder, I paused and waited for him to finish the call. He slammed down the receiver and whirled his chair to face me. His beady brown eyes widened and he raised his hand. I didn't know whether he meant to grab my wrist or reach inside his coat for his own gun.

I would like to have told him how long it took me to get inside his home, how I'd worked two years to make this happen. It would have given me more pleasure to explain how many girls like Merilee and Desiree and my beautiful Lisa I saved by shooting him. Had I the opportunity, I would have told him how my Lisa died, addicted to drugs and wasting away before she slit her own wrists, shamed of the life she had led.

I would have shared with this monster the agony he'd put me through when he corrupted my naïve daughter. Who knew how many women he had ruined? Would that I could have made him beg for mercy. Where he was concerned, no mercy lived in my heart. There was no time for revelation to this beast.

I pulled the trigger and the bullet hit him in the center of his forehead. He slumped to his desk. I cleaned my prints off the gun-the one he'd once given Lisa for protection-laid it on the desk and quietly left the room, pulling the door closed behind me. The clock in the parlor chimed five as I left the house.

I forced myself to walk slowly to the corner and turn down the side street toward the bus stop. A black Mercedes passed me headed toward the Turrentino mansion. Probably Desiree returning from her shopping spree, her last one at Turrentino's expense. I hoped she chose purchases she could sell for income.

Merilee had, and left the city for somewhere far across the country to start over. When I approached her with my plan, she had snapped up the opportunity to escape Turrentino's clutches.

I stepped behind a line of tall photinia bushes by a wall and shed my wig and uniform. After pulling the cotton from my cheeks and folding the glasses I'd purchased from the drug store, I took the change of clothes from my tote bag and stepped into them.

I fluffed my real brown curls and stepped onto the sidewalk, leaving my uniform behind the bushes. My bus rolled into sight. It stopped; I stepped on and found a seat. With a sigh, I reached into the tote for my book and began to read. No matter how distasteful, a job is a job-and mine was finished.

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