Three's A Crowd
"Well now, if it isn't the graduate!"
Mark gave a sheepish smile as he removed his hat and stepped up to the counter. "Hello, Mrs. Kane."
"What brings you in here? I thought you'd be off celebrating."
"That's exactly what I came here to do." There was a gleam in the young man's eye as he reached for the bowl. "Just because I'm done with school, that doesn't mean I'm done with candy!"
Lou's voice suddenly called from the back room as she appeared in the doorway. "I had a feelin' we might be seein' ya today." She offered Mark the small box in her hands as she went on, "Special ordered just for you."
"You shouldn't have-"
"Don't ya go spoilin' my fun."
"Thank you." Mark opened the box, chuckling as he saw what was inside. "I haven't had these since before Miss Hattie moved."
Lou nodded. "Mrs. Denton got to reminiscing when she was visiting last winter. Said how distraught little Mark McCain was when you found out her supplier wasn't carrying them anymore."
"How'd you find 'em? Miss Milly looked all over."
"I have my ways," she teased. "So, how does it feel to be all finished?"
"…To be perfectly honest, it doesn't feel any different than any other last day of school. I reckon it'll settle in this fall when I don't go back."
Mrs. Kane chuckled. "The way you've been talking this last month, I expected you to be declaring your freedom to the whole town."
"I think I'll settle for this," he answered, gesturing with the box of candy. "Thanks again, Lou."
"You're very welcome."
"Has that wire order come in yet?"
"I'm afraid not. I'd expect it on the stage tomorrow, Monday at the latest."
"I'll be back tomorrow, then. Have a good evening, and you too, Mrs. Kane."
"Goodbye!"
Mark stepped out onto the boardwalk, taking a piece of candy from the box before putting it in his saddle bag. He started down the street towards the blacksmith shop, stopping as he heard an angry voice call out behind him.
"I told you to wait for me!"
"Jim, I-"
Mark turned around to see Mr. Patterson grabbing his wife with one hand, raising the other to strike her. "I'll learn you to-"
"PATTERSON!" Micah stepped from his office, shotgun in hand.
"Marshal, this ain't none of your affair!"
Faster than Mark had seen the marshal move in a long time, Micah pulled Mrs. Patterson away from the man before bringing the shotgun to bear on her husband. "Your wife gets my protection, just like any other member of this community! You lay so much as a finger on her and I swear-"
"Big words coming from such a little man," he sneered. "What are you gonna do? Shoot an unarmed man? They'd take your badge away. If I was you, Marshal, I wouldn't go poking my nose into other folks' business when there's no shotgun to hide behind."
"Who's hiding?" Mark's eyes widened as Micah tossed his shotgun onto the ground.
Patterson let out a booming laugh, briefly turning away before taking a swing at the marshal. Micah ducked, returning the blow just below the man's belt buckle. Patterson doubled over in pain, allowing Micah the opportunity to punch the man across the jaw, sending him sprawling to the ground. Mark watched in astonishment as the marshal repeatedly kicked Mr. Patterson in the ribs, not giving him the chance to get up before driving a fist into the man's face. Micah began angrily yelling threats as he yanked Patterson to his feet, another blow from the marshal forcing the man back to the ground.
The knot in Mark's stomach grew as he realized that Micah was too angry to stop. Sensing that no one else was going to interfere, the young man swallowed the lump in his throat as he ran towards the growing crowd of onlookers.
"Micah! MICAH!" Mark grabbed hold of the marshal's arm, only to be shoved to the ground. He scrambled to his feet before again taking hold of the man, this time bracing himself against the wagon. "Micah, that's enough! He's unconscious! He can't hurt anyone now! MICAH, STOP!"
"MICAH!"
Mark briefly looked up, thankful to see Mr. Swenson breaking through the crowd to join him. The young man tightened his grip on the marshal, watching the blacksmith so as to pull back when he did. Finally, Micah's hold on Patterson broke. He stumbled backwards, shaking Mark and Nils off of him before grabbing his shotgun.
"Someone get him to a doctor," Micah spat. "Mary, as far as I'm concerned, you have the right to file assault charges against him, married or not."
The woman stared at him in shock for several moments before finding her voice. "…I don't think that's necessary, Marshal."
"He gives you any more trouble, you let me know."
As a few men carried Patterson down to Doc's, Micah stormed back across the street, slamming his office door shut behind him.
"…Mark, what happened?"
The boy turned towards Mr. Swenson, briefly looking back over his shoulder before the two started towards the livery. "…Micah stepped in to stop Mr. Patterson from hitting his wife, but… I don't really think that was all Micah was concerned about."
"What do you mean?"
"…Well Mr. Patterson took the first swing, but… I've never seen Micah so… angry. I mean, of course Mr. Patterson had no right to try to hit her, and Micah was right to try to stop him, but… you saw the last of it. You would've thought Mr. Patterson had killed her."
"Jim's been causing a lot of trouble around here as of late. Rough housing in the saloon with the boys is one thing, but I'm sure seeing him hit the missus was the last straw."
"…He didn't even get that far."
"Well, at least after a beating like that, he won't be able to for a long while."
"Yeah, I guess…"
"Say, I've got them saw blades done for your pa if you want to take them home."
"Thanks, I was headed over here to ask about that."
Nils entered the livery and made his way towards the bench as he went on, "What'd your pa say about Henry's offer?"
"…I still haven't found the right time to ask him about it yet."
"You better get on it boy, before he asks someone else."
"I know, I told him I'd have an answer by Sunday. I'm gonna talk to Pa about it tonight if I can."
Nils nodded as he handed Mark a stack of wrapped blades. "I did what I could on that top one, but it's getting old. I reckon it'll need to be replaced in a few months."
"I'll let him know."
"Up for a round of checkers?"
"I better get going, thanks though. Maybe tomorrow if Pa's meeting goes long."
"See you then."
Mark waved and hurried back to BlueBoy, putting the blades in his saddlebag. He looked up at the marshal's office, concerned to see the shades drawn. The boy hesitated before apprehensively starting down the boardwalk. He stopped in front of the jailhouse door, finding it locked when he tried to enter.
"…Micah?" Mark tried the door again before knocking. "Micah, open up!"
The young man tried once more before walking to the back of the jail. He found the rear door also locked, but was able to peer through a crooked curtain to see Micah sitting at his desk, opening a bottle of liquor.
"Micah!"
The marshal looked up, stood from his desk, and entered the back room, only to fix the shade. Letting out a sigh of defeat, Mark made his way back around the building and mounted up.
As he rode home, the young man played the scene over in his head, unable to forget the look he had seen in Micah's eyes. They were angry, yes; but beyond that there was more. Something even more troubling than the hate he'd seen there a dozen times before.
As Mark rode into the yard, he called for Lucas, surprised when he didn't hear a response. "…Pa?"
He led BlueBoy into the barn and quickly saw Razor's empty stall. Letting out a deep breath, Mark began to unsaddle his horse. After taking care of BlueBoy, he headed inside and started supper, nearly an hour passing before a horse could be heard entering the yard. Mark hurried outside, calling for Lucas.
"Pa?"
Lucas stopped and looked over his shoulder, continuing into the barn as Mark followed him. "What are you doing home? I thought you, Jeffrey, and Percy were going fishing."
"They decided to go camping."
"Percy? Camping?" Lucas laughed as he shook his head. "Why didn't you want to go? It's not like you to pass up a camping trip."
"I'll explain later. I'm worried about Micah."
The rancher again turned around, this time seeing the concern on his son's face. "Micah? Something happen in town?"
Mark nodded, taking another step forward as Lucas rested a hand on his shoulder. "I was heading down to the livery to ask Nils about those saw blades when Mr. Patterson started yelling at his wife. He got so mad, he was gonna hit her, but Micah came out from his office to stop him. Mr. Patterson started taunting Micah about hiding behind his shotgun, and when he put it down, Mr. Patterson tried to hit him."
"You think there's going to be more trouble?"
"That wasn't the end of it. Mr. Patterson never actually got a chance to hit Micah. I know Micah had every right to defend himself, but this was more than that. Pa, he… he kept beating up on Mr. Patterson, even after he was unconscious. Nils and I had to pull Micah off of him. It was more than anger in his eyes… more than hate. It was like something snapped inside of him. I went over to the jail afterwards, but Micah had pulled the shades and locked himself inside. I got a look through the back window, and he had his bottle out again."
Lucas let out a heavy sigh, nodding as he started to lead Razor into the yard. "If you're wanting to go camping, there should be enough time for you to catch up with Percy and Jeffrey before dark." The rancher began to mount up, hesitating as he saw the look in his son's eyes. "What is it?"
"…I had already decided against going before I went to school today. When you get back, can we talk?"
Lucas took his foot out of the stirrup before taking a step towards his son. "I know you're worried about Micah, but if there's something troubling you, Micah can wait. He's made his own decisions."
"It's not urgent, I just knew if I went camping I wouldn't have enough time to talk to you about it before church on Sunday."
"Church?"
Mark shook his head. "It's really not all that important, Pa. I can explain later."
"Alright…" Lucas mounted up before looking back down at his son. "I'll try to be back as soon as I can. Will you take care of the stock?"
"Yes sir. I'll keep supper warm for you."
"Thanks, Son."
On the way into town, Lucas found himself more preoccupied with the conversation he was supposed to have with Mark when he got home than the impending conversation with Micah. Knowing his son had given up a camping trip, he doubted that what Mark wanted to talk about wasn't important.
When the rancher arrived in town, he found the jail as his son had described. He started towards the marshal's residence, stopping as he heard Nils's voice behind him.
"Lucas?"
"Mark told me what happened. He still in there?"
"As far as I know. Jim's been pushing Micah for weeks now… it was only a matter of time before he blew. And boy did he blow! I think Jim's still over at the doc's."
"From what Mark said, I have a feeling that Micah's reaction today had to do with more than Jim."
"What do you mean?"
"Micah's not one to get riled by troublemakers unless there's a history between them. If that were the case, Micah would have shown his colors a long time ago."
"What are you going to do?"
"Try to figure out what got him so riled today."
Lucas continued on, starting up the old, rickety stairs that led to the marshal's small home. He let himself inside before retrieving a key from the desk, then made his way down to the back of the jail. He entered the office, walking into the front room to find Micah sitting at his desk, nursing an untouched glass of whiskey.
"…That bottle doesn't seem to have such a good history of fixing your problems."
"This one can't be fixed."
"That why you sent Jim Patterson to Doc's today?"
"Jim Patterson tried to assault his wife before he tried to assault me. He got what was coming to him."
Lucas sat down on the corner of the desk, taking the shot glass from the marshal's hand. "My sixteen-year-old son had to pull you off of an unconscious man today, and I'd like to know why."
The marshal continued to stare down at the desk, pressing the heels of his palms against his forehead. "…You remember my niece, Jenny? She stayed out at your ranch a few years back when she came to visit."
"Sure I do."
"Her pa was accidentally killed during one of his boxing matches about a month ago. I know I don't have much to offer, but I wired Evelyn… to try to get her and the girl to move out here. Felt like it was my responsibility to look after my little sister, but Evelyn said they could make do. …I should have pushed harder."
"…I'm sure she's doing what she feels is best for her and Jenny."
"Not anymore, she isn't."
"What do you mean?"
"She's dead, Lucas."
"…Dead?"
The marshal nodded, running a hand through his thinning hair. "…I got the telegram this afternoon. Jenny found her at the bottom of the stairs yesterday morning. Evelyn's always been frail… seems she was almost always sick. That's why they sent Jenny out here… Evelyn needed a special surgery and they didn't want Jenny to know. …The doctor thinks she had one of her attacks in the middle of the night… tried to make it to the kitchen and…"
"…Micah, that's not your fault. It could've happened here just as easily as there."
"…I've heard people say the climate out here can be good for people like her. I should have tried harder, I should have-"
"Even if she had said yes, she would have needed time to grieve, to pack up the house, to say goodbye. A few days wouldn't have made a difference."
"…When we were young, she would beg me to take her fishing, to teach her how to ride… to let her shoot my pistol. I hated her following me around everywhere I went. Then before she got married…" He stopped, shaking his head. "…I'd give anything to have those years back."
"…I'm sorry, Micah."
The marshal blew out a deep breath as he sat back, hesitating before he grabbed the bottle of whiskey and shoved it back in the drawer. "…You done branding yet?"
Lucas's brow furrowed, confused by the sudden change of subject. "…Micah, if you need to talk…"
"I'm asking because I want you to watch the town while I'm gone. …I know that's a lot of time away from the herd, but I can only make the funeral if I-"
"Mark can handle the herd. I'll stand in as long as you need me to. …Take some time to be with Jenny… I'm sure she'll be needing some family. I'm sure you both do."
Lucas spent several hours in the marshal's office, helping his friend sort through his grief. It was nearly ten-thirty when the rancher returned home, smiling to himself as he stepped inside to see Mark asleep in his chair. He retrieved his plate from the oven, quickly eating before quietly taking care of the dishes. Remembering how early Mark had been up that morning, Lucas decided against waking him and draped a blanket over his son before retiring to the bedroom.