Caleb: A Western tale, circa 1880's

Chapter Three

Out in the dooryard, the dog Jethro snarled at the riders, his hackles raised and saliva dripping from his teeth. In response, one of the members of the posse drew his rifle and took aim at the ugly cur. Caleb held his breath, ready to fire if the dog were killed. He slowly released his breath in a tight sigh when two sharp clicks gained his attention, warning everyone of a cocked scattergun.

"Shoot my dog and I'll shoot that horse," she warned. "This here's loaded in both barrels with nine-buckshot and one good turn deserves another. Besides, it's rude to come to a body's home and threaten to shoot without even so much as a 'by-your-leave'." Immediately, the man with the rifle lowered it. Jethro stayed where he was, hackles raised and snarling at the posse.

"Miz Slocum, Ma'am," the marshal replied in an officious tone, "there's a renegade loose on your property. We'd like permission to search for him."

She sighed and lowered the scattergun a little. "Well now Marshal, I know you're just dying to tell me all about him, so let's hear it." Caleb was encouraged to hear the heavy sarcasm in her tone. It was apparent that she didn't think much of the men before her.

"Miz Kitty, the man we're hunting is some no-account drifter goes by the name of Caleb Waite."

Caleb was amused to hear the description of him. He might be a saddle-tramp, but he was no drifter- and he could have certainly have given account for himself had he been asked. The only reason he was between jobs at the moment was because the brand he'd been riding for had been bought out by a larger outfit.

"He's wanted for the rape and murder of a woman back in Jefferson County, Texas. I got the poster here." Caleb watched the marshal hand his wanted poster to the woman on the porch, whom the marshal had addressed as 'Miz Kitty'. He held his breath again, remembering the scene in town when the marshal had recognized him from the poster he hadn't even known existed.

She eyed it briefly and handed it back. "It says wanted for questioning, never that he actually did it," she pointed out. "And this here's Montana, not Texas; in case you-all didn't notice." She grinned at her own jest and gestured toward the barn. "If he's hiding out there, he won't be for long. You know it as well as I do, Marshal Sikes. This place tends to make people disappear." 

Caleb wondered what she meant, but the town marshal only nodded his agreement. "Still, we'd like to check your barn and outbuildings before we go, just to be sure. That there's a high price on his head, for an innocent man." She looked like she would argue, but he added, "with you on your own here, it just wouldn't set well at all with my missus if I didn't make sure."

"All right, Marshal," she agreed with a glance at the barn, "but I'm not going to let you lot wander my home at will. Me and Jethro will check while you come with us." She eyed the lot of men with him. "And only you," Kitty stressed, "light a spell, Marshal, and we'll start with the outhouse."

In the hay mow, Caleb wasted no time burying himself in the hay, making sure he was well-hidden and that no trace of his progress remained. She'd given him plenty of time to do so, starting at the far end of the semi-circle as she had. His heart pounded while he waited and Caleb did his best to breathe quietly and deeply, listening for the sound of voices.

Eventually, he could hear Kitty's voice as she neared the barn from the back-side. "You can see from here that no one could possibly be in the smokehouse," she commented. "It's too hot and who could breathe in all that smoke?"

"Sure, Miss Slocum," agreed the marshal, who apparently had also been deputized as a deputy sheriff in order to be operating so far out of town. "That just leaves the barn."

The door creaked open and Miss Kitty Slocum led the way in. From above, Caleb held his breath, worrying about his saddle. The pair moved between the stalls as the marshal checked every single one, even the sheep and pig pens and Missy's cow stall. Finally, Miss Slocum led the way up into the mow. "I can tell you, Marshal, nobody's here," she commented. "I just did chores an hour ago."