CORT'S TRIAL

by

BAILEY

The sun rose through clouds on the eastern horizon, painting the sky pink and grey.  The town was just coming awake after a hard rain the night before.  Puddles stood in the wagon ruts that ran the full length of the only street in town. 

‘Redemption’ was still recovering from Herod’s fearful reign.  It had been two years since Herod and his band of cut throats had died or were run off. The gunfight tournament he held had proven to be his downfall.  The town had a hard time rebuilding and fending off the recurring threats of men who sought to re-claim the town as a haven for gunfighters and card sharks.  Word had spread that Herod lost his final match to a woman and those he’d known assumed that he had become weak.  They also assumed the little town was open for their use now that he was gone. 

The marshal awoke as he always did, just after dawn, and began his day.  He carefully washed his entire body using a rough washcloth, lye soap and the basin of water he kept ready in his small room behind the jail.  His mother had insisted on his bathing every day from the time he was old enough to manage for himself.  It was one of the things he never strayed from.  Even though they were dirt poor she felt a clean body harbored a clean mind.  “Cleanliness is next to Godliness,” she used to say.  When Herod had him shackled and chained for days on end during the tournament, being dirty the entire time was the hardest thing to bear. 

Cort looked at himself in the mirror. He had grown into a tall, broad shouldered man with a straight nose and light brown hair.  He had large hands and bowed sensuous lips.  Thinking back on his childhood he realized his mother had been the only bright spot in his otherwise miserable life.  She took good care of her only child and tried her best to instill moral values.  He never understood how a woman as kind and gentle as his mother had married a man as vicious and miserable as his father.

He finished his bath and dressed in the usual white shirt and tan cotton pants.  Sitting on the bed, he pulled his well-worn boots on over woolen socks.  He thought for a moment about Ellen, the Lady, who killed Herod.  She had ridden out of town and was never heard from again.  Though some of the town’s men folk had gone after her, she was never found.  Everyone knew she had a bullet wound when she left and when she wasn’t found, it was assumed she died somewhere out on the prairie.

Cort recalled when she came to him and explained her plan to kill Herod.  Even though he was supposed to be a preacher and a man of God, he had given into her need for companionship and they made love.  He never forgot how she felt.   The urgency of possible death had made their passion unequaled by any he’d felt when traveling with Herod.  He’d been with many women, all of them whores.  Ellen was worldly but could never be considered a whore.  Her passion was for life in its basic sense.  Her pain was as great as his and when they completed their lovemaking she had whispered, “You’re the only man I’ve ever cared for.  Please be careful tomorrow.”  Then she left.

He recalled the time they stood facing each other in the street while Herod counted down, waiting for one to kill the other.  Cort had waited until the last moment, hoping she would actually draw and kill him.  When he knew she wouldn’t he gave in and ‘shot’ her.  He prayed with all that was in him that he would follow through with the ruse and not be tempted to actually kill her.  He had done so before and knew his dark side, the part of him that wanted to live, might overcome his trust in her.  He thought for a moment that he actually had.  His rage was real as he advanced on Herod, willing to kill him and be killed in the act, by Herod’s paid lackeys.  “This is what you wanted all along, isn’t it, Herod?  Why don’t you come get some?”  he had screamed.

It wasn’t until late that night when Doc came to see him that he knew for certain Ellen was alright.  He lay in the tiny room, beaten nearly senseless and hating himself for what he thought he’d done.  When Doc told him Ellen already had their plan in motion, he was relieved beyond belief.  Doc reminded him that Ellen had made Cort promise not to kill Herod.  It was her right. 

The next morning, Cort stood in the street wrestling with his own thoughts.  He wanted to see Herod dead as much as Ellen; he just wasn’t certain she was up to the task.  She had told him of her father and the horror she’d lived with; he just didn’t want her to suffer the same fate he would.  Killing was wrong, but there were times it was necessary, she had reminded him.  “A good Shepard would kill a wolf to save his flock.”  He understood the wisdom in this and gave in to the need.  He also realized, without the opportunity to kill the wolf herself, Ellen would never forgive herself for her father’s death.  In the end he trusted her to complete the only mission her life held.

In the aftermath, she had only announced to the town that the law was back. He never understood why she rode out, no words spoken between them, leaving him with the responsibility of protecting the town.   She never even looked back.

He stood up, strapped on his double holster, checked each of his Smith & Wesson Scoffield .45’s and placed them in their holsters.  He took one more look at the man in the mirror, sighed and walked from his room into the jail.  The stagecoach would arrive at around eight o’clock.  He’d have time for breakfast and a quick check of the town before he met it.

Cort wandered down to the restaurant.  Mr. Kellogg’s wife was a good cook and her coffee was the best he’d ever drunk.  Mr. Kellogg greeted him as he walked in.  “Morning, Cort.”  He chuckled, “I could set my watch by your arrivals.  I’ve never seen a man as punctual as you.”

“I guess you’re right, Harold.  I should change up my routine.  Predictability can get you killed.  I guess I just look forward to Mrs. Kellogg’s mornin’ meal.”

“Nothing wrong with that. I’ve done it for nigh on fifty years myself.”  Mr. and Mrs. Kellogg were one of the oldest couples in the area.   They could have retired, sold the restaurant and lived comfortably on what they saved, but they both enjoyed their work.  Mrs. Kellogg was very good in the kitchen and she derived great satisfaction from the compliments she received from their customers.  Mr. Kellogg was outgoing and looked forward to the conversations he had with various patrons throughout the day.

The Kelloggs had talked many times about their marshal.  He reminded them of their son, Jonathon, with his soft-spoken ways and shyness.  Jon had died several years ago from a fever.  He was their only child and had never married.  They looked on Cort as a sort of replacement for Jon.  He always looked in on them several times a day and helped whenever they needed it.  They knew about his past but couldn’t reconcile the man they knew in Redemption with the man Herod said he was.

As was his usual routine, Cort checked in with each of the town’s business owners as they opened up for the day.  Mrs. Kane was one of his favorites. She was an older woman who lost her husband some five years earlier.  She’d been here when Herod ruled the town.  In her opinion, Cort walked on water.  He wasn’t just handsome, he had a good heart and looked after the town with more than ‘a payday’ interest.  He talked very little and rarely socialized outside of normal daily conversations.  She thought it was because he felt he wasn’t as good as the other townspeople.  They all knew about his having been an outlaw, but they also knew he had been a preacher who ran an orphanage.  As quiet and simple as he seemed, he was a man more complex than any she’d met in her life.  She hoped someday he would meet a nice woman and marry.  He had a nice smile, and dimples.  He just rarely seemed to be happy enough to show them.

The stagecoach pulled up in front of Carlton’s hotel nearly half an hour late and Cort was waiting for it.  The driver waved at him as he jumped down and began unloading some baggage.  The small face of a red-headed little girl peeked out the curtains of the coach’s door.  Cort smiled at her and she giggled.  He reached for the handle and opened the door.  “I’m Dudy,” the toddler announced.

“Judy, wait.”  Cort could hear a woman’s voice.  Before she could stop her errant daughter, the child put out her arms to Cort and he took her.  The woman appeared, holding an infant in her left arm while trying to steady herself with her right hand.  Cort gallantly offered his hand and helped her down the step to the wooden sidewalk.

She smiled at him.  “Thank you…Marshal?”  She saw his badge hanging prominently on his shirt.

“You’re welcome, ma’am.  You must be Doug Dawson’s sister.”  He said it so quietly she could barely hear the richness of his baritone voice.

“Yes. Linda Barstow,” she said.  He was still holding her hand.  “How did you know?”  She could see he was a bit shy and very soft spoken.  It wasn’t what she expected.  Most lawmen were all ego and showed how tough they were.  Cort was the exact opposite.  She already knew he was tough as nails.  Doug had written her about him.  They were friends, though not close.  It seemed Cort never got very close to anyone in town.

“Your brother said you were coming to live with him.  Welcome to Redemption.”  He didn’t really smile although the corners of his mouth rose a bit.  He suddenly realized he still had her hand and let it go.  He was thinking she would be a welcome addition to the town's growing population.  She was obviously a ‘lady’ and would no doubt be courted soon enough.  Her brother told him how she’d been widowed only weeks after finding out she was pregnant with her second child.  That was over a year ago.  Her mourning was over and she would be free to look for another husband.  As pretty as she was, Cort was sure she would have no problem with suitors.

Judy seemed fascinated with Cort’s hair.  Her chubby little hands were playing with the curls that hung near his handsome face.  He looked at her and smiled.  Then he made a silly face and she giggled again.

“My daughter seems to like you.”  She smiled at him thinking how handsome he was with light brown hair and blue/green eyes.  He was clean and well kept, though his clothes were not new, nor were his boots.  He held Judy as if she were the most precious of treasures.

“Children and animals,” he said.   He could talk to children and animals and look them in the eye when doing it.  Adults were different.  He supposed it was because children and animals accepted you as you were, adults looked to your past and saw only that.

“Linda!  Linda!”  Cort and Linda turned to see her brother nearly running down the street toward them.  Doug Dawson was two years younger than Linda.  He was handsome, tall and easy going.  Linda and he shared the same dark brown hair and chestnut brown eyes. 

Doug owned the town’s stable.  He did all the blacksmithing and cared for the animals for townspeople.  When people visited from out of town and needed a place to stable their horses, they looked to him.  He had been a new widower the day Herod began the ‘games’.  His wife died a week before during childbirth and he never got over her loss.  When he heard Linda’s husband died, he began trying to convince Linda to move to Redemption and live with him.  They had no other close relatives and he felt they could both use the company.

He swept up his sister and whirled her around baby and all.  He put her down and turned to Cort, “Is this Judy?”  He took the little girl and kissed her on the cheek.  “I’m your Uncle Doug,” he announced.  “I see you’ve met Marshal Cort.”

“Yes, we’ve met,”  Linda laughed.

“Well, I’d better get you to the house so you can settle in.  Marshal.”  He nodded to Cort and grabbed the large suitcase while still holding Judy.  Cort watched them as they made their way down the street. 

Cort was happy that only Linda and her children were on the stage.  All too often it was a gambler or more ‘ladies of the eve’.  The brothel was still a going faction, much to his disgust.  But he had to admit, there were far more men than women and a man had needs to be taken care of.  It was a necessary evil.  Not that he indulged.  He hadn’t been with a woman since Ellen, and had determined he never would.

Linda was getting used to living in Redemption.  She made friends quickly and became involved in church activities.  She was a little disappointed when the first Sunday she accompanied Doug to church, Cort didn’t attend.  She had seen very little of him and was hoping to get to know him better.  When she mentioned him to her brother, he seemed amused that she would expect him to be there.  “I know I told you he used to be a preacher, but he never attends any social functions and I’ve never seen him in church.”

“I wonder why?”  If Cort had been a man of God, surely he still was.

“No one knows very much about him, only what Herod said.  There was something about Cort killing a priest and being an outlaw most of his younger life.  He’s the fastest man with a gun I’ve ever seen, so I suppose it’s true.  Some say he was in love with ‘the Lady’, the woman who killed Herod.  She rode out after the shootout and rumor is she died of a gun shot wound.  They never found her body.”

“If he was such a terrible man, why did they say he was a preacher?” 

“He ran a mission down south.  He took care of orphans and helped the locals.  I guess he was trying to make up for his past ways.  Herod’s men hunted him down and burned the mission.  They killed several of the children in front of Cort, just to make a point.  I guess they wanted him to know he’d never be rid of his past and they wanted him to hate enough to kill.  Herod was a sick man.  I think Cort was the only man alive he truly feared.”

Later that week Linda went to the mercantile looking for several articles.  She left Judy with Doug and was carrying little Bobby on her shoulder.  She kept picking up articles, carrying them to the counter, then returning to shop for other things.  Normally, Mrs. Kane would help her gather the necessary items, but she was in the back settling an account for someone.  Linda didn’t want to wait and was doing the best she could. 

Cort walked in and watched her for a moment.  He could see she literally had her hands full.  “Can I help you,  Ma’am?”

She hadn’t heard him come in and his voice startled her.  She turned so quickly, she nearly fell over several bags of flour lying on the floor.  Cort moved so fast he had her before she could fall.  He stood with his arms around her waist.  “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said in a low voice.  He realized he was holding her and blushed.  He made sure she was solidly standing and moved a couple of steps away. 

Not many men blush.  But Cort was one.  She was a little amused and a little confused.  He felt so strong holding her and she couldn’t help taking pleasure in it.  Her husband never made her feel that way, but then again, he wasn’t a loving man. 

“Would it help for me to hold the baby while you find what you’re looking for?  Or would you like to tell me what you need and I’ll get it?”  He was still blushing.  She liked the blush, she liked his voice and she was sure if she had an opportunity to get to know him better, she’d like him.

Not many of the men she’d known were in favor of holding an infant, especially if it wasn’t their child.  It was woman’s work, or so they thought.  Of course they would if they had no way around it.  But Cort was different, he offered it as a first option and she recalled how he seemed happy to be holding Judy the first day they arrived.  She had noticed on several occasions that the town’s children seemed to follow him and he never seemed to mind.

She smiled at him.  “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, you could hold Bobby for me.  I think it would go faster that way.”

She handed him Bobby and the baby seemed content in his large arms.  He walked to the door of the store and stood talking to the baby as if he could understand what was said.  Cort pointed to one of the men walking by and told the baby the man’s name and what he did for a living.  Linda stood for a moment watching the scene.  Cort would be a good father if he ever decided to become one.

Mrs. Kane walked in from the office as Linda finished placing the last of her items on the counter.  “Is that Marshal Cort?”  She whispered to Linda.  Linda just nodded.

Mrs. Kane finished totaling up the bill and wrote the amount in her ledger.  Doug always paid the bill once a month.  Cort walked back to the two women at the counter.  “Can I help you carry this home?” 

“There’s way too much to be carried.  Mrs. Kane will have it delivered.  Besides, I’ve already imposed on you too much.”

Cort had a sad look, “Children are never an imposition; they’re Gods slate.  You can write good or bad on them. It just depends on the author.”

He handed Bobby back to his mother, “Ladies,” he said, tipped his hat to them and was gone before she had a chance to thank him.

“Well, what do you think about that?”  Mrs. Kane stood with her mouth open.

Chapter Two

Several months had passed.  Summer came and went with relatively few incidents.  The weather had turned cold earlier this year.  It was barely into October and there was a promise of snow already in the wind.  Cort made his way from one shop to the next.  It was Sunday and most of the town was at the church.  Cort routinely checked the businesses on Sunday.  It was the most likely time for someone to try to steal something, Sundays and nights.  He was thinking about the chicken dinner Linda had invited him to share with them after church.  He was looking forward to spending the afternoon in her company and playing with the children.  Doug seemed to accept his coming with some curiosity.

He was just finishing checking the last of the shops at the far end of town, when a band of men rode in.  There were six, all wearing guns and looking like they’d been riding hard.  They stopped in front of the saloon.  Cort hurried down the street intending to brace the men and find out what they wanted. 

As he neared the saloon he got a prickly feeling in his back.  He turned too late, realizing he’d been suckered.  A man with a rifle stepped from behind a building he’d just passed.  Cort turned, drew his pistol and shot just as the man fired his rifle.  Cort’s shot hit him in the chest killing him, but it wasn’t soon enough.  Cort felt the bullet hit him high in the chest and he staggered, turning toward the saloon.  The men he saw enter the saloon came out, guns already drawn.  He shot one and was aiming at another when a second bullet hit him in the thigh, buckling the leg, making him kneel.  His third shot killed another man, but a third bullet brought him down completely.  Grazing him on the temple, he lost consciousness quickly.

Reverend Thomas was just warming up to the point of his sermon, when several shots interrupted him.  At the sound of the first shot everyone in the congregation stood up and looked to the double doors in the front of the church.  Several men began leaving the pews to see what had happened. 

They ran out of the church and immediately saw Cort lying on the ground near the saloon.   Four men were advancing on them, guns drawn.  None of the church-goers were gun wearers and wouldn’t have worn them to church at any rate.

The leader stopped several yards in front of the crowd and demanded, “Where is Linda Barstow?”

When no one answered, the leader shot the first man he looked at.  Mr. Kellogg lay bleeding from a leg wound.  “I’m here, Bill.”  Doug grabbed Linda, trying to hold her back.  “Let go of me, Doug.”

She stepped in front of the crowd. “Well, sweetheart, I knew you’d come here eventually.  Did you really think you could get away that easily?”  The leader laughed.  “Bring the kids and come along.”

Doug pushed through the crowd. “Linda, what’s going on?  Who is this?”  He stood holding Judy while Linda held Bobby.

“Put Judy down, Doug, and don’t get involved.  You’ll only be killed for your efforts.”

Doug held on to the little girl and glared at the leader, who smiled wickedly, “I guess you’re Doug.  We’ve never met but I’m your brother-in-law.”  He laughed at that.  “Do what my wife says and put my daughter down.”

“Daughter?  I thought you said your husband was dead!”  He looked to his sister but she refused to look back.

“That was wishful thinking on her part.”  The leader laughed and motioned her to come along.   She took Judy from her brother and put her down.  Linda grabbed the little girl’s hand and walked toward her husband. Bobby was crying on her shoulder. The gunshots had startled him awake. As she drew even with her husband he leaned to her, “I told you, you could never leave me.”

They walked to the saloon while the others watched their backs.  As they passed Cort’s bloody body Judy pulled from her mother’s grip and ran to him.  “Cort,” she said, putting her hands on his head.  She sat on the ground next to him crying.  “Cort wake up!” 

Her father grabbed her and held the crying toddler.  “Who was he?  My stand in?”  He hit Linda so hard she nearly dropped the baby.  “Well, I don’t guess he’s a problem anymore.”  Bill Barstow laughed and pulled the trigger one more time, hitting Cort in the back. He used the toe of his boot to roll the sheriff over onto his back and reached down to pull the badge from his shirt. Linda had tears in her eyes as he dragged her to the saloon and up to one of the rooms above it.

As soon as the outlaws stepped into the saloon, the congregation slowly moved to look at their fallen marshal.  If Cort couldn’t stop these men, no one in Redemption could.  They left the three dead outlaws and carried Cort to the church.  At least they would make certain he had a proper burial. 

Linda sat in the chair nursing Bobby.  She had thought Bill was dead.  It wasn’t until this day that she realized he wasn’t.  She only wanted peace and quiet for herself and two children. 

William Barstow seemed exciting and interesting when they first met.  He was handsome to a fault and told her stories of adventure and romance.  She had thought him to be a business man.  He always had money and dressed very well.  It wasn’t until after they married she had even a hint of what he was really like.  He told her he traveled a lot and wearing guns was part of his work.  He carried large amounts of money and had to protect himself.  She knew he was good with a gun and he had several cowboys who accompanied him on his ‘trips’. 

When she found a wounded man in their barn she questioned Bill about how it happened.  He had tried to convince her it was an outlaw’s bullet that had wounded the man.  But when she insisted they take the man to the town’s doctor, Bill made it clear he wanted no interference.  This morning wasn’t the first time he’d hit her and he never, but never allowed back talk.  She finally realized he wasn’t what he professed to be.  Over the next two years she was witness to several more incidents and they always coincided with a bank or train robbery.

When she found out she was pregnant with their second baby, she decided to leave him.  She carefully packed a bag and took Judy to the train depot.  Linda expected Bill to be gone for at least a week and that would give her enough time to be long gone.  They moved to San Francisco where she found a job as a seamstress.  She told a story of how her husband died of the fever and she moved so she could find a job to support her and her baby daughter.  She wrote Doug and told him the same story, except she said Bill had died after they reached San Francisco. 

Bill had made some stupid mistakes and after nearly being caught, his name was becoming known even in California.  She read a story about how the Barstow gang had been slaughtered down to the last man in Wichita.  She had been foolish enough to believe she was rid of her outlaw husband.

Linda kept seeing Cort lying in the dirt, covered in blood.  She couldn’t believe he was dead.  Of course he was probably already dead when Bill shot him the final time.  He’d done that to drive home how helpless she was and to remind her she would never belong to anyone but him.  Tears came, born of hatred, hopelessness and emptiness now that Cort was dead.  She had seen a tenderness and strength of character in Cort she had rarely seen in anyone and she could only mourn his loss.

Linda closed her eyes and allowed the tears to fall as she recalled the first time Cort had shown his prowess with a gun.  It was only a couple of months after Linda arrived.  She and Cort were standing in front of the hotel as she told him about the Saturday dance coming up.  She was hoping he would either invite her or at least mention he’d be there.  She already bought cloth for a new dress and hoped to have it ready in time to wear it.  All Cort could say was that she would no doubt be the prettiest lady there.  He blushed when he said it. 

Two men could be heard arguing in the saloon down the street, and Cort excused himself to go see what was wrong.  Just as he neared the saloon she heard two shots and a man came out holding money in his hand.  “Hold it right there, mister,” Cort had said.  The man moved out into the street and stopped.

“I’m just taking what was mine, Marshal.  He was cheating me and he drew first.”

“Maybe so, but we need to sort this out first.  Put your gun down and come with me.”  Cort was quiet, but Linda could see he was totally concentrated.

“No, I’m not going to jail over a crooked card game and I’m not swinging from the gallows for killing a thief.”  The man was wavering under Cort’s stare but wouldn’t give in.

Cort tried one more time to talk sense, “If what you say is true, I’ll let you go.”

The man seemed to consider this but raised his gun intending to keep the sheriff covered while he left.  Cort drew and shot him before the man could fire even one shot.  The moment he hit the ground, Cort carefully moved towards him, making sure he wouldn’t try to shoot again.  He crouched down taking the gun from the man’s hand and told one of the now several onlookers to get the doctor. 

Cort had deliberately wounded him but made sure he wouldn’t be killed.  “You should have just come with me.”

Linda remembered how defeated Cort had looked as they took the man to the jail and tended his wounds.  It turned out he was telling the truth.

Cort seemed to withdraw from everyone for several days after the incident.  Even though the man wasn’t badly hurt and recovered from his wound, Cort seemed to blame himself for the shooting.  She remembered thinking how hard it was for Cort to deliberately hurt anyone.  It just wasn’t in his basic nature.

The next morning she watched from the upstairs window while the town turned out to bury Cort.  They carried his coffin from the church to the end of the street where they loaded it on a wagon bound for the cemetery a couple of miles out of town.  Bill wouldn’t allow her to go pay her respects.  He knew she had feelings for the marshal; it was on her face when he pulled the trigger that last time.

“Well, Darlin’, I guess we’ll need a new marshal.  I thought I’d put in for the job.”  He stood there with the badge attached to his shirt, grinning like it was some kind of joke.

Linda couldn’t even look at him.  He’d beaten her the night before when she resisted being his wife.  He of course took her ‘favors’ without her permission. It wasn’t the first time that had happened, either.  She had closed her eyes and pretended it was Cort.  It almost made the ordeal bearable.  Her life was a living hell and his memory was her only sanctuary.

ON TO PART 3

BACK TO LIBRISCROWE