Black Saddle
Tangled Reins
A.N. – I apologise if there are any errors in the details regarding names, places and other things. I have done my best to decipher these from watching the series. There are references to the following episodes:
Means to an End (Series 2, Episode 16)
The Apprentice ((Series 2 – Episode 18)
The Return (Series 2, Episode 21)
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Latigo, New Mexico
Deputy Marshall Gibson Scott, (known to the residents of Latigo as Marshal Gib Scott), had just finished his cup of coffee in The Hot Spot Café when he noticed Clay Culhane ride into town on his horse, Curly. He threw a coin on the table in payment and strode out into the street just as Clay was tying up his horse outside his office.
"Hi, Clay," Gib said, approaching him. "How did your business go in Santa Fe?"
Clay turned to face him. "It's been a long time since you took an interest in my comings and goings," he said. "What's the real reason you've struck up this conversation?"
"Do you mind if we continue this inside your office?" Gib asked in a way that could only be described as coy, or was it just that he appeared a little nervous? Whatever it was his gaze was partly obscured by his hat as it hovered between Clay's face and the toe of his own dusty left boot.
"Are you sure you're not needed over at the jail?" Clay said, not believing that Gib and he had anything to say.
Gib looked up at him. "I've left Lon in charge."
"Okay then." Clay nodded and, lifting the saddle bags from his horse, he slung them over one shoulder before heading toward his office door, unlocking it and removing his hat along the way. Once inside he hung his hat and the saddle bags on the hat-stand. He then turned to the Deputy Marshal and motioned to a chair.
"Why don't you take a seat?" he said.
"I'd rather stand," the other man said, removing his hat and holding it in his hand.
"Suit yourself," Clay replied sitting down at his desk but turning the chair so that he was facing Gib. "Now what's this all about?"
Gib didn't reply straight away. Instead he paced up and down a few times unconsciously mutilating the brim of his hat with his hands, making Clay nervous that it was a substitute for him, and then threw himself into the chair Clay had indicated earlier. It was obvious there was something on his mind.
Clay shifted restlessly and set his mouth in an impatient line. "Just spit it out!" he advised.
"What are your intentions toward Nora?" Gib blurted out.
That was the last thing Clay had been expecting. He swallowed and looked down at the floor, not quite sure what to say. After a moment he lifted his gaze to Gib's face. "I could ask you the same question," he said. "I've seen you carrying her shopping for her and holding her hand over breakfast at the hotel."
Gib looked startled. "I didn't…" he stumbled over the words.
"You're not denying it?"
"I was gonna say that I didn't know you saw. Are you jealous?"
Clay shrugged. He was feeling uncomfortable with this conversation. Like most men he was not happy talking about his feelings, especially with someone who used to be a friend but now…well… "Where do we stand, you and me?" he asked instead of answering Gib's question.
"You know things aren't so good between us," Gib said. It was a statement and not a question.
So thought Clay, the other man had used the present tense. That wasn't good. He didn't want to be at odds with the only man in the territory that he considered a friend but he didn't quite know how to put things right so he automatically gave a jerky nod to show that he accepted Gib's view of the situation between them. After all Gib probably considered himself the aggrieved party even though he was the one who had said all those harsh words. What hurt most was when the Marshal had told him that the biggest mistake he had made was letting Clay come into Latigo He couldn't forget the words 'You got some people fooled with that pious law and justice talk but not me. Winning's what counts with you.' "It is the law that counts with me," Clay said, feeling defensive even though the words had been spoken a while ago now. "I don't always have to win. You should have known that."
Gib looked surprised for a moment by Clay's words and then he realised that the lawyer was referring to the fight they had over his mentor Gurney Rhodes coming to town and the fact Lee Winkleman was shot dead by his sidekick Peck Martin. "Oh," he said. "I more or less worked out you were telling the truth about not wanting them in town when I heard you went face to face with Peck and shattered his elbow with a bullet. You stopped his gun-fighting career in its tracks. I also heard Rhodes was afraid to take you on so I guess that means he won't ever be coming back."
Clay was taken aback on hearing that Gib had changed his view of him. "But you were so mad at me when you had to ask me to defend your brother Jamie," Clay said. "You practically threw the money at me." He had to know if his agreeing to take the case had made things better or worse.
Gib's eyes were fixed firmly on the floor again when he next spoke. "I didn't have to hire you. I had every intention of bringing in an attorney from Santa Fe."
"Then why didn't you?"
"Because I was trying to apologise to you," Gib said crossly, mustering up all of his courage to look Clay straight in the eye. "I thought you would have realised that I was trying to mend fences with you when I trusted you with defending my only brother," he admitted.
Now it was Clay's turn to say, "Oh."
"But it didn't seem to work. I suppose I should be grateful it was Marshal Grey that shot him dead and not you … for once."
Clay frowned. "So now we're back to the Whitney and Parson case. What was it you said to me before you left for Santa Fe? Ah yes, 'I've seen you start legal before and it still ended with someone being carried to the parlour.' You really think I would shoot someone if there was any other way? I gave up that life and you know it."
"Did you?" Gib asked. The look he gave Clay told him that he was willing to be persuaded that was the truth but Clay was too worked up to notice. Anyway, he was a man and men just aren't good at that kind of thing.
Instead Clay threw his hands up and then planted them on his knees and said, "Let's just forget it, okay?"
Gib took him at his word, thinking it best to leave it for the time being. If Clay wanted to continue being at odds with him then he understood. He had said some unforgiveable things and then there was the massive physical fight that had ensued. He wondered if one of them would have actually killed the other one if Nora Travers hadn't intervened and pulled them apart. "You didn't answer my question," he said.
"I thought we had dropped the subject."
Gib sighed. "Are you jealous of Nora and me?" he asked impatiently.
"Ah, that question." Clay paused for a moment before he continued. "Well I might be if she and I didn't have dinner together the night before I left for Santa Fe," he said.
Before he knew it Gib was out of his chair and had punched him in the face. Clay flew back against the desk and then bounced back to plant an upper-cut to Gib's chin. Then they just went at it, with fists flailing and rolling on the floor with their hands around each other's throats until Gib stood up and backed away, raising one hand in surrender while he used the other to wipe the blood from his lip.
"We can't keep doing this," he gasped.
"You started it," Clay said, climbing back into his chair and feeling his nose. "I think you broke it."
Gib took Clay's hand away to have a close look at the appendage in question. "No, it's only bruised," he said frowning at it as if it was to blame for him hitting it.
"No thanks to you," Clay responded. "It looks like you're the jealous one."
"I wouldn't be if it was anyone but you."
"What does that mean?" Clay asked.
"You don't deserve her. Or maybe you've forgotten Mrs Whitney."
"Not that again. I was only trying to stop Boyd Parsons from throwing her bodily into the street."
"Nora told me what you said about having a liking for good-looking widows."
"That was a joke between me and her. I was trying to tell her that I have a liking for her but I didn't want to just come out and say it," he admitted, running a finger round his shirt collar, as if it had become too tight all of a sudden.
Gib gave a deep sigh. "Do you think Nora even realises how much we like her?"
"I don't know. The way we treat her she probably considers us a pair of schoolboys," Clay said.
"A couple of jackasses more like," Gib said with a deprecating grin.
Clay smiled back at him and they both stood and looked at the floor while they shuffled their feet for a bit before he asked, "Do you want me to take myself out of the running?"
"No…Yes… No… I couldn't ask you to do that. It wouldn't be fair."
"Good because there's no way I'm doing that anyway."
"Then why did you ask?"
"I'm a lawyer; I guess I got into the habit of asking questions."
"Oh, so we're gonna leave the decision up to Nora then," Gib said.
Clay squinted at him. "Do you think she even knows we like her?"
"I guess she does, seeing as how I proposed to her."
"You proposed to her? I proposed to her as well," Clay said.
"You did? What did she say? Silly question; she obviously turned both of us down."
"Do you think that's why she decided to stay in Latigo; because of us?"
They both looked at each other in amazement. Then they both looked sad.
"Things are just the same as they were then," Clay said, putting their thoughts into words. "Neither of us has anything to offer a rich woman like Nora Travers."
"Do you even want to be married?" Gib asked Clay, making the other man look at him in surprise.
Then Clay had a think about it. "It does kind of mean a big change to a man's life," he admitted.
Gib nodded in agreement. "On the plus side whoever married her wouldn't have to move out of the hotel," he said. "And she makes the best smothered eggs and coffee in the territory."
"Yeah, there is that."
"Why don't we just carry on the way we've been going and let Nora make the running? She's a capable woman."
"Okay," Clay said.
He held out his hand and Gib shook it saying, "I'm glad we came to an agreement."
"So am I."
"If you need me I'll be over at the jail."
"Fine."
With that Gib picked his hat up off the floor, dusted it off and put it on his head before walking out into the sunny main street of Latigo.
Clay went into the back to lie down on the cot he kept there. He was tired after his journey to Santa Fe.
Both of them were smiling. Maybe they could be friends again after all.
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Fin
