HOUSE OF USHER

By Andii Valo

EPILOGUE

Cort lounged in his regular chair on the hotel porch, beer in hand, and watched the evening traffic on Redemption’s main thoroughfare. Things were generally peaceful but a lot busier these days, on account of the town’s growing size and reputation for strong and abiding law. The zero tolerance policy on gunplay and violence saw many reputable families and businesses attracted to the area, and the newly installed telegraph line gave birth to countless rumours and excited gossip about the railroad coming.

It was nearly nine months since the events of Bisbee. Autumn was taking hold and Cort was enjoying the cooler temperatures in the evenings. Plans for the upcoming Day of the Dead festival were well advanced and he couldn’t help smiling as he considered just how different his experience of this year’s event was going to be.

He’d pretty much recovered his physical disposition: his guts still ached in the morning, he was forced to avoid coffee, whisky and spicy foods, and he regularly experienced nightmares of being held down forcibly while white hot pokers were thrust into his stomach.  Other than that he felt just fine…

He spotted Ben Carter leaving Horace’s saloon and begin walking towards him. At the other end of town, Toby came out of the marshal’s office and headed down. The three of them met like this every evening, discussing the day’s events and tomorrow’s business over a few bottles of beer. Toby was always tired but young enough to handle it. Many of his patients in Bisbee had proven happy to make the trip to Redemption in order to continue treatment, and the locals all saw fit to take advantage of him as well. He was juggling this thriving doctoring business with his marshal’s duties but refused to give up on either. Old Doc Wallace was lingering on in gleeful semi-retirement.

As he waited for them to arrive, Cort’s eyes drifted to the building opposite the hotel. Blown apart by gunpowder almost a year ago, the ruined wreck was long gone and a new church had sprung up in its place. It was nearly finished and would be a fine addition to the town when it was done. Cort looked forward to the day when he could again attend Sunday worship, but consistently turned down appeals for him to become Redemption’s priest. Father Rueben had become a good friend and he’d recommended a young preacher who was just itching to take on his first congregation. He was due to arrive any day now and Cort was looking forward to meeting him.

His time with Vivienne Furnell had been intense and joyous but ultimately brief. For nearly two months he could only look at her, burning with intent but physically incapable of doing anything about it. Once recovered enough he’d made up for lost time and the fire of their passion frequently aggravated his healing injuries. However the things which had drawn them together also served to push them apart. Their shared intelligence, strength of will and independent nature meant he could not entertain the idea of moving to Phoenix, struggling with society status and playing surrogate father to her children. She in turn would not countenance moving to a small, frontier town and living as a lowly marshal’s wife. Without the frisson of danger and fear to bind them together, the tears in their relationship soon stretched to breaking point. They’d parted amicably, as friends, and he often missed her company though Kitty kept him well enough entertained in the bedroom.

He’d recently received a letter from the US Marshal’s office. It put his employment onto an official footing and they even sent him a new badge, though he preferred to wear the one Ellen had given him. The letter contained details of a fairly generous salary, to be paid into Redemption’s new bank on a monthly basis and since the recently flush town council were also remunerating him, he used the balance to pay Ben a decent wage. Toby didn’t need paying; he was making a fine living as a doctor but in spite of that they were all still sharing the jailhouse. Ben refused to move out of the second bedroom and Toby preferred to bunk in a cell unless they had prisoners, in which case he temporarily moved to the boarding house. Cort had the strongest impression these two men would follow him to the ends of the earth; the idea was quietly pleasing.

He’d also had a letter from Jack Bellows, stating his intention to remain in Tucson and run Henry Usher’s old business, and reminding Cort about the four hundred thousand dollars still buried in the desert. Jack would be sending representatives along for it presently, but wouldn’t be attending himself. Cort was sorry to hear that. He missed Jack, his sardonic humour and sarcastic tongue, though he sure didn’t miss his hard fists and unforgiving nature…

Ben and Toby reached the porch together and exchanged greetings. Ben went inside to get some beers and Cort smiled as he recalled the day he and Toby had arrived back in Redemption. He could still picture the look on his deputy’s face: Ben had been so pleased to see him he’d been unable to speak or hold a proper conversation for fully two days, though he’d stuck to Cort like a dog and hadn’t let him out of his sight for a moment. He was still a little like that now, all these months later.

Toby flung himself into the chair beside Cort, pulled a letter from his pocket and passed it over.

“I picked this up today; looks like it’s important…”

Cort turned the letter over in his hands. The envelope was brown manila and bore the seal of the US Marshal’s office. He smiled at Toby.

“Just the latest wanted list, I reckon.”

He tore it open and read its contents quickly then, frowning, he read it twice more. He took in every word slowly, not quite believing what he was seeing.

Ben joined them and pushed a beer into Toby’s hand. The kid was watching intently and seemed a little edgy.

“Ain’t bad news is it, Marshal?”

Cort’s heart was pumping fit to burst. Another piece of his past had just reared up and bitten him hard in the ass.  He gazed at his two deputies.

“What do you know about a man called Ben Wade?”

ON TO ACES WILD

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