Simple Justice

Chapter 1

Daybreak

Stand on the hill above the Reed Ranch, the Double R, and look down on the little cluster of buildings any summer morning. It's full dark, sun not up yet, that early. If your eyes are sharp, you can just see smoke starting out of the cookhouse chimney. Gray, puffy, sort of sluggish and slow to rise above the pipe. Then a puff of wind pushes it across the rooftop, floating it up the canyon behind the ranch where it vanishes leaving behind the rich smell of the cedar wood being burned. It changes after just a few minutes becoming more regular, then almost invisible as the cook dampers down the stove. This is the beginning of the almost dance that the cook and her helpers do every morning. The almost dance that feeds the hay crews when haying is on, the wheat combine crew when its time for harvest, and the hands who take care of the cattle the whole year around.

Those almost dancers are the women inside the cook shack, old lady Reed, her normally tightly confined hair escaping here and there, and already wet with sweat; Janna a long time worker on the ranch, a member of one of the tribes whose reservation runs along the northern side of the ranch; and little Jesse and her daughter, Lydia.

Little Jesse, in her day the most beautiful woman in the county, widowed when her husband, out herding cattle down from the breaks above the ranch, got caught in a sudden thunderstorm. The Indian people who found him claimed God had struck him down. One lightning bolt hit him, knocked him off his horse and killed man and beast. Little Jesse, still beautiful, long a widow, mother of Lydia, who now succeeded her mother as the most beautiful girl in the county.

Lydia's not playing in that kitchen, she's helping as she has helped for years. She's good help too, standing next to her mother, quick, deft hands working up huge trays of homemade yeast rolls, moving onto peeling half a mountain of potatoes, setting out plates. They all work quickly, do more than usual, its a hay crew that's up this morning and they eat. Finally laying down her knife, glancing at Mrs. Reed for permission before Lydia goes to the coffee pot and pours out mugs of coffee for all of them. Each checks on their particular task, stirring potatoes, browning sausage, or monitoring the oven. It's all satisfactory. Sighing, they settle at the table where Mrs. Reed hands out plates and they all have a bit of sausage and bread. Even with the night providing some coolness they are all sweating; the huge range at baking heat, makes sure of that. The one white woman, the one Indian woman, the black mother and daughter; all grateful for a bit of rest before the huge rush of serving the hay crew begins.

School starts in a couple of weeks. Dorothea Reed fixed her intensely blue eyes on Lydia. You have what you need?

Lydia nodded. She hated how the old woman could make her feel insecure. It didn't help that Dorothea Reed had that effect on most everybody. She didn't want to feel like a bug in the glare of oncoming headlights and that's just how Dorothea Reed made her feel. She swallowed and managed to control the tremor talking to most white people brought into her voice. I won't know until I see my assignments just what school money I'll need, but, I've been saving my wages.

Dorothea Reed nodded, glanced at Little Jesse, then shrugged, I'm putting a bit extra into your wage packet at the end of the week. Just keep going to school, girl. Just keep going to school. Nothing else matters.

The old woman, and by God, she was that, slugged down the rest of her coffee, grabbed the cups and the pot and headed toward the sink. She didn't want thankyou's. They just embarrassed everybody, both the giver and the receiver. She sighed and dumped the pan of cooling soapy water down the sink. Behind her the other women had resumed their tasks. They were a good crew. Worked almost perfectly together. She'd miss Lydia when she stepped out into the world and left the Reed Ranch. She was sure to do it too, as pretty as she was.

She saw a lot of the men taking an interest in Lydia, the looks, the whispered comments, she'd put a stop to some of the more unsuitable ones. She sighed and went to the copper double boiler on the back of the range and ladled more hot water into the huge dishpan. She put it into the sink and continued with her washing up. Life wouldn't be easy for the girl.

Behind her she heard the first of the hay hands seating themselves at the table. The tempo increased. Platters were picked up, removed, and replaced. Coffee served as quickly to those at the table. The huge amounts of food disappeared, the gallons of coffee followed suit. Finally the last straggler forced himself out into the dawn. Dorothea didn't encourage dawdlers. Only Junior Reed remained. Dorothea glanced at her son. He seemed more secretive lately, holding himself in, worrying himself about something. She shook her head. It was a crime to dislike someone who had formed in your own body, to hold that someone at a distance, to never relax the high standards both she and her husband had enforced. She forced a thin smile in his direction. It couldn't be more than that, she just didn't have it in her. Janna had always been more of a mother to Junior than she'd ever been. Too bad it hadn't been possible for them to have other children. That might have made it better. She shook herself out of old sorrows.

As was her way when something upset her, she stared outside at her apple orchard. Too late, way too late to change any part of it, even the little bit she could have changed. She gathered up the last of the dirty plates balancing the stack on her hip as she did so. Slowly she worked her way down the table to where her son sat waiting. He had something in his craw, something stuck that he wanted to spit out. She wondered if there was another piece of equipment he wanted, a new breed of bull? She hoped not, their finances wouldn't handle it, not just yet. Maybe after harvest.

She turned to haul her load of plates into the kitchen then stopped, arrested by a sound. Damn, she whispered it. She knew the sound of that motor as well as she knew the sound of all of the equipment on her own ranch, it was Lester Garrett's fancy motor car. The sonofabitch was back, the sonofabitch. She felt tears of old frustration edge her eyes. The sound slowed, the car was moving, she could tell that, just barely moving. The bastard always had known the effect he had on her, the sheer loathing, the fear. She glanced at her son. His face looked lighter, happier, God, what was this? She started to ask then stopped. He had turned away from her, pushing his plate aside, putting down his coffee cup. She went on into the kitchen. Hard to say about Junior, hard to say.

Another set of eyes watched the long Packard as it moved slowly down the fence line. Lydia stared at the car from her place in the orchard. Janna had sent her outside embarrassing her about her periods. Don't work hard on your moon days, it's not good for you. So here she was standing around in the orchard eating a peach, a really good peach and watching the Garrett's fancy car crawl down the road. They did it that way all the time, the Garretts, doing it on purpose getting back at the Reeds for some reason. Mom knew, Lydia knew she did, but she wouldn't say. Something that happened long ago, long before Lydia had been born. She pondered on people hanging onto a hurt for so long, hanging on, never letting it slide into forgetfulness.

She grabbed another peach and carefully peeled the fuzzy skin away. These were good, the first of the season, golden, juicy, wonderful, a taste of heaven. Way better than apples. If the snake came down to tempt her, he'd better do it with peaches, maybe pears, but apples? They just weren't as good. She leaned against the tree watching the hay crew in the distance, the tractors, the rumble and swish of the bailer. It seemed amazing that two people owned all this land, the houses, the animals, the equipment, all of it. Mom said they had a lot of everything except money, that the Reeds just made it through. Once all the wages and all of the bills were paid, there wasn't much left over.

Lydia shivered, she didn't want to be like old lady Reed, all harsh angles, the endless work and the heat of the ranch kitchen having smelted all of the softness out of the woman's mind and body. All those decades of work left a sort of human husk and those eyes. Lydia thought the devil or a judgement angel might have eyes like old lady Reed's. Sharp, penetrating, knowing nothing of kindness or weakness. Lydia sighed, her break was over. It wouldn't be right to be daydreaming out in the orchard when there was so much work to do. Another touch of fear, her mother hadn't been feeling well. She didn't say anything but Lydia knew. She'd heard her mother crying in the night from the pain. She had to keep working, both of them had to keep working. She wiped her eyes. It must be her period. She tried to hold her fears inside away from the prying eyes of her coworkers, and more importantly, the town beyond.

Inside that long, overly expensive automobile the Garrett family rode together, two in sullen silence, the third, the driver, oblivious. Lester Garrett didn't worry much about other people or their concerns. He knew the two of them were angry, they were always angry. He chuckled to himself. Let them be! Something had to break through. Show them there was only one way to make things work and that one way, take what you wanted, all that you wanted.

He glanced back, the girl was staring out the window. Growing lovely like her mother, maybe prettier, it was hard to think back that far. The old bitch was all nagging and frowns now. Whatever he'd wanted out of that marriage he hadn't got. He sighed, there were reasons, of course, reasons that had nothing to do with her. He glanced back at the girl again, damn his damaged body. A rut in the road caused the car to jump and swerve. He turned his attention back to the road. He'd have to have this part of the road graded. The damned Reeds wouldn't even though it fronted on their property. Tight-assed bastards. The car swerved again.

Melissa Garrett kept her eyes glued to the passing scenery. She didn't turn, not through all of the bumps and lurches. Her father couldn't drive well at all. She'd almost laughed when he'd slowed down to do the usual crawl the length of the Reed property. She'd had reason to hope. She remembered Junior Reed's shy smile when she'd met him at a roping last spring. It'd been cold, she'd put on her Pendleton Woolens, a good choice, ranchers liked their Pendletons. She'd blended in. People accepted her. She wasn't the hated Lester Garrett's daughter, only Melissa. That day had been paradise. She leaned on the fence with all the others and watched. Then he'd seen her, smiled at her, and came over. They'd talked and he'd shared a thermos of strong coffee with her. Every time she was up from school they'd met after that. She'd make damned sure she did again. He made her feel safe, sheltered cared about. She felt none of those things from her brother and her father. There! Him coming out of the Reed cook house. He turned and faced the car. She kept her face immobile, her hands clenched in her lap. It wouldn't do to wave at him or even show any feeling at all. The other occupants in the car would be all over her if she did. She smiled to herself. Soon, soon…

Chapter 2

Secrets

Dorothea Reed stood on the cook house porch and watched a mounted figure angling up the draw across from the ranch. Her son going off again. It had to be another meeting with his new girl. She glanced down. She could still ride a horse. She could saddle up and follow him. Odd behavior on her part. She hadn't been a smothering type of parent, far from it. So why now? Why the nagging concern at the back of her mind? Junior? Keeping secrets when he never had before? The figure topped the rise, hesitated, then disappeared over the hill. Odd in him not to bring her, whoever she was, to the ranch to meet his mother. And the girl, what was wrong with her family? Letting her meet with a man? Not watching over her? Not doing it all proper? Not caring? A bad family that, too much like the one she'd come from. Dorothea shook her head. She hoped it wasn't one of the tramps that sold themselves out of the Cross Roads Bar. One of them had snagged the youngest Williams boy. Junior surely would have more sense than that! She sighed. He'd do what he wanted. He was too old to boss. But she'd keep an eye out and if it looked bad, she'd haul her tired old bones up on a horse and follow him. She'd catch him and his tramp; had to be a tramp, to go about things like this, and put an end to it.

She kept watching him. It frightened her. She wished she had managed to develop a closer relationship with him so she could just ask him. She couldn't. She'd built the barrier between them from the time of his birth. The only way she could tolerate the situation. Now it was so high she couldn't just bull through it and ask, she could only watch and what she saw scared the hell out of her. Junior had been infatuated before, he'd been in lust before, but this wasn't the same. Junior was in love. He glowed with it. If a big, fully grown man, could be said to dance through his days, Junior did. He laughed. He had all the symptoms, a full blown case. Dorothea shook her head.

Sooner or later they'd have to talk. Once Junior married she'd have to leave the ranch, she'd decided long ago that she would not stay on the ranch. Her own mother had said, You can't have two bitches in the same pen, you can't have two women in the same kitchen. Lord knows she'd earned an easier life, but what would she do? She put the thought aside. Right now there were hungry men to feed, a job to get done. She turned and went inside.

Junior watched the tiny figure on the cook house porch from the summit of the mountain. The distance shrank her down so he felt he could manage her. He knew she'd been watching him. Trying to find an opening to ask him. Damn, sometimes he wished she weren't so damned quick witted. It'd be easier. In his heart he knew he couldn't tell her. No more than Melissa could tell her father. They'd just have to run away to a neighboring county and just get it done. Do the knot tying and let the old people fight it out. He wasn't giving up Melissa. He angled his horse down the summit and toward the boundary between the Reed Ranch and government ground. Melissa'd be coming to him at that little spring.

The spring sat in its own thicket of willows and aspens. Current berry bushes drooped over the water heavy with fruit. A bit of grass close to where the water seeped up out of the ground gave enough space to sit down comfortably and the thicket stood high enough so they couldn't be seen. Not that anybody would be looking for them there. He got off his horse, took a halter and lead out of his saddle packs. Might as well make both of them comfortable, it might be a bit before Melissa got free of old man Garrett, and her weasel of a brother. Junior sighed. He sure didn't like the younger Garrett, Roger Garrett, there were bad rumors about him. Melissa stayed close-mouthed about him, though she obviously didn't like him, her face froze at any mention of him. Junior tied the lead to one of the willows. He stood up, ducked through the sheltering willows and looked up the narrow trail that led back to her father's ranch. Not yet. He went back to the spring and stretched out on the grass. Comfortable, the sun heating even the inside of the thicket, he dozed.

He couldn't tell how long he'd nodded off. It was the sound of a horse coming down the trail from the Garrett side that startled him awake. A horse coming and coming quick. He stood up and pushed through the thicket just as Melissa reached it.

Her usually neatly rolled up hair had been stuffed up under her hat. When she looked at him her eyes were swollen. One puffed shut and red. He went to her and caught her as she slid out of the saddle.

What the hell happened? He stroked her hair. Who?

Who else? My brother, or as much of him as is my brother. Melissa leaned her head against Junior's shoulder. You know, I thought we had more time, but I can't go back, I can't go back and dodge both of them.

He led her to grass. Sit down, sit down and tell me. He kept his arm around her and settled to the grass along with her.

I didn't want to, not all of it. I didn't want you to think worse of me for it. Damnit, I just couldn't face life without you. I love you Junior. Other than my mother, I think you're the only human I've ever loved. She put her head down for a long moment. Mom knows about them, has done her best to keep both of them away from me. And it's mostly worked. If she goes somewhere, I go with her. Going to school, being away, what a blessing! Didn't have to dodge grabby hands. She looked up at Junior. All those stories you've heard about Roger Garrett?

Junior nodded. I've heard them. They're so bad and so frequent I believed them.

Believe them. Melissa leaned against Junior. Believe all of them. Most of the damage has been confined, bought off, if you want to know the truth. There's a special fund Lester keeps just to buy Roger out of trouble. He goes after someone, he gets them. Sometimes Roger forces them, sometimes not, but always he hurts them. Then Lester opens his checkbook. She shivered. I don't think he wants me for that purpose. He saw an opportunity to terrorize me this morning and took it.

Opportunity? Your mom?

You remember what I say to you, that's why I love you so much, you really listen. She kissed his neck. I always go with mom when she has appointments or even a buying spree in Denver. This time I didn't go. I thought I could get away early enough and sit out here and wait for you and Roger wouldn't have time to start any of his stuff with me. I was wrong. He knew mom had left. She took the Packard. I hope she spends all of the old bastard's money while she's away, I really do.

Junior felt a bit of shock. His mother was distant and hard but she'd never attacked him! He felt a seldom occurring rush of warmth toward his mother. He thought he'd had it bad, but this was so much worse. At the very least his mother had loved his father and the ranch. His thoughts skittered away from that. He knew his mother had put her life into the Reed Ranch. How could he ask her to leave? But he knew his women, both of them. Too strong willed. They'd never make an easy hitch to drive. He stroked Melissa's hair. So soft, so fine, she so beautiful. He took her hand and kissed it gently. Those questions would have to be answered later. Right now the most important thing in his life was relaxing, the tension finally draining out of her, wrapped by his arms. They remained that way for a long moment, at last Junior shifted her weight.

Your dad? Can't he stop Roger?

She stiffened in his arms, took a deep breath, He's not my Dad. It came out little more than a whisper. The sonofabitch is not my father. Mom told me to keep it secret but I have to tell you. She looked up at him, her swollen eye a poor match for the deep brown of her undamaged one. Does it matter? Do you care?

No. The one word came out forcefully. No, damnit, I'm glad, I'm happy. I don't know what the problem is between my mom and your, well…

Call him my dad. It'll keep us out of trouble, keeps my mom out of trouble. She's stuck with him. I don't think she has a choice. That part she wouldn't tell me. Just that I am never to think that I'm Lester Garrett's daughter. I believe her. I don't look like him, act like him, or think like him.

And Roger does, that's for damned sure. Junior Reed stretched. We can go over to Little River, different county, get married over there. Think that's the best way to do it. I, his big hands clenched, I would like to kill that snaky little bastard, I'd like to kill him.

No. Melissa forced his hand open and kissed the palm. No, it'd make more trouble than it's be worth. I don't want dad hounding us. She sighed, It'll be hard enough to tell your mother.

"There is