The Wagon Incident

Willie just couldn't shake the feeling that someone was following him. It made him feel uneasy. Every so often he stopped his horse and scanned the barren landscape. Was that a cloud of dust in the distance? He stood in the saddle and focused on the road stretching in front, then behind him. Was there a rider or riders heading towards him? He saw nothing, only a jackrabbit darting across the trail, and a vulture circling above.

"Ah, just a dust devil," he said to himself. Somehow he wasn't reassured.

Something always seemed to bother Willie. It had been that way since he came out west. He'd read in a magazine that the West was a place for a man to have his anonymity. A place where people kept their noses out of another man's business, and if they didn't, it was likely to get shot off.

The vulture floated above him as Willie watched the jackrabbit disappear into the safety of the brush. He looked out into the desert, searching for signs of activity on the trail. The land was still. He nudged his horse forward. "Why can't people just leave a man be? Stay out of my business and I'll stay out of yours," he said to no one but the wind and his horse.

As he rode along, he saw a small hill topped by a solitary boulder standing like a beacon. Willie rode off the trail into the scrub. “I can remember this place.” He dismounted and removed his saddlebags. A dead barrel cactus was a few feet away. He looked inside the rotted carcass; only the prickly shell remained. “Perfect, no one will look here.”

Willie quickly stuffed the bags inside. He looked around again to make sure he wasn't seen. Satisfied he was alone, Willie broke off a branch from a nearby mesquite bush and dragged it across the ground. He walked his horse back to the trail, brushing the ground behind him, obliterating the hoof and boot marks. After he reached the trail, he remounted his horse and rode on.

Horse and rider continued down the trail towards whatever town was on the way. It didn't matter to Willie what the name was, a town was a town. A place to get whisky, a bath, a bed, and maybe a little something else. "I sure hope the next town is friendlier to me than the last one, although I made a pile," he said to himself. As he rode along he started thinking about a drink, then his thoughts turned towards the something else.

The last town didn't have much in the way of something else. That had been one of the reasons he lit out, though not the main reason. The only females there seemed to be either used up or too hard-hearted. Willie liked soft women; leave the hard women to the hard men. Hard women aren't very welcoming to lonely strangers drifting along the trail. The longer he thought about it, the more lonely he became. The sound of a woman's voice, laughing and having a good time entered Willie's thoughts. He imagined himself promenading around town with one, or squiring her to the local dance. He was charmed by her laughter, then her laughter turned into a scream.

Willie shook his head and brought himself out of his reverie. He stopped and listened. “It was a woman screaming,” he thought.

"Do what I say, woman!" a man's voice roared, followed by the sharp sound of a whip cracking. Willie looked ahead and saw a copse of trees with a wagon on the side of the road nearby. It appeared as if the axle had broken. The wheel was off, leaning against the rickety-looking buckboard. It wasn't a fancy looking ride, it was made for hauling, not comfort. All it had was a plain board for a seat.

"You'd better not make me miss my delivery in town!" the man shouted.

A woman standing near the wagon tried to sidle away from the man, but he was having none of it. "Get that wheel fixed!" he shouted again.

"It's too heavy for me, Karl," the woman said. "I can't lift it."

"What do you expect me to do?" Karl roared. "I can't lift the axle and put the wheel on at the same time! You have to pick up the wheel! Stop being worthless to me, Grace!"

Willie rode closer and closer to the couple. "Mind your own business, mind your own business, mind your own business," he kept saying to himself. "Don't get involved, just ride on."

At that moment, he shouted at her again, and as she was trying to talk, Karl swung a piece of wood at her. Grace ducked, the wood missing her and hitting the side of the wagon.

"Ah, why'd he have to go and do that?" Willie sighed. He trotted up to them and said, "Hey, fellow, what are you doing?"

Grace jumped at the sound of Willie's voice. Willie noticed she was slim, with dark brown hair piled on her head. Even though her face was tear-stained, he saw very fine features and he knew she didn't belong with the man.

"What business is it of yours, stranger?" Karl growled at him. He was good-sized, not fat, but probably muscular under his loose, worn and dirty clothing. He was rough-looking, with coarse features and unruly hair. A marked contrast to the woman he was bullying.

"You shouldn't treat a lady that way, mister," Willie stated.

"Says who?" Karl sneered. Then he swung the piece of wood at Willie.

Willie spurred his horse forward and knocked Karl off his feet, sending him sprawling on the ground. "Says me," Willie sneered back. He dismounted, drew his pistol, and moved toward the man. Karl staggered to his feet, hands balled up into fists, ready for a fight. Willie began to holster his gun and glanced at Grace, momentarily taking his eyes off Karl. In an instant, Karl threw a handful of dirt into Willie's face, catching Willie unprepared, blinding him. As he tried to wipe his eyes, Karl hit him hard in the stomach. Willie lost his breath and fell to his knees. When Karl saw it, he grabbed the piece of wood and smashed Willie on the back of the neck. Willie's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he fell face first in the dirt.

When he woke up, Willie found himself securely tied to the wagon wheel, sitting under a tree. It was night, and Grace was cooking over a fire, stirring food in an iron pot. Karl sat under a tree a few yards away, smoking a cigar and looking off into the distance. Willie glanced around the camp and saw another fire a few yards away from Karl with a hammock stretched between two trees nearby. He spied his own gun hanging from a broken branch near the cooking fire, far out of reach.

He tugged at the ropes holding him close to the wheel. No give. He wasn't going to get out of this by himself. He stared at Grace. She sure looked good to him silhouetted against the fire. She glanced at him every now and then, furtively, then towards Karl to see what he was doing.

"Where's my dinner, woman?" Karl shouted to her.

"It's almost done." She ladled out a plate of food for Karl and took it to him. "What about him?" she asked, pointing to Willie.

"Ah, you can give him some, I guess, but don't untie him, got it?"

"Sure," Grace replied. She headed back to the pot and filled a plate for Willie. She slowly came to him. He could see she had big brown eyes. Her hair fell down and brushed his face. He thought for a moment that she planned to let that happen.

"What's taking you so long?" Karl called out. "I want more!"

"Well, he's tied up, he can't feed himself, I was going to do it."

Karl laughed. "Poor feller gonna get spoon fed like a baby!" He laughed again. "Just be quick about it."

Grace nodded towards Karl and raised a spoon towards Willie. "Go ahead and eat," she whispered. "I don't know what else to do."

Willie talked low between spoonfuls. "Do you want to get away from him?"

She looked at him with her eyes shining in the dark. "Oh yes, he's so mean and hateful to me, but what can you do?"

Willie leaned closer to her, wanting to do something other than talk. "Find some way to get me my gun." Grace looked around, then towards Karl. She moved closer to Willie, grazing his face lightly with her lips. Maybe it was an accident, maybe not, Willie mused.

"I'll try when he's asleep," she whispered. "What's your name? My name is Grace.”

"My name is William, Willie Jones," he told her.

She smiled broadly at him. "Willie. Willie Jones, that's a nice name," she said. "You'll have to wait until I can get your gun. Karl unloaded it and tossed away your bullets. I don't know where he threw them. I'll have to take some of his and reload for you. Just wait, it may be awhile. I'll wake you up soon,"

"Come on with that food, woman," Karl shouted.

"I'm coming now!" Grace stole away with a glance back to Willie. He wondered what life would be like with her. "Grace, that's a fitting name for her. Ah, get out of this scrape first, Willie," he told himself. And with that thought in his mind, he laid his head back, waiting for her to return.

He awoke with a start. It was just before sunrise and Grace shook him gently. "Here's your gun. Your horse is tied by the tree over there. I'll cut you loose, but stay here so he doesn't know I've freed you.”

"I'll let him think I worked my way out of the bonds," Willie replied.

Grace had a frightened look in her eyes. “Karl was angry last night. He thinks I want to leave him. I, I, I think he's going to kill you!"

Willie knew he had to do something quick. "Look, distract him somehow but stay clear of him."

Willie leaned closer to her face; Grace leaned closer to him and parted her lips, waiting. Then Karl shouted again. "What's taking you so long, we have to get going!"

She pulled away. “I'm coming now," she told Karl. She turned and started towards him. Karl was now dressed in clean clothes with a duster; gone were the ratty clothes of the day before. He'd shaved and groomed himself and now looked quite respectable.

"We don't have all day, woman. Get a move on!" Karl cracked the whip and she shied away from him.

Willie jumped up and leveled his pistol at Karl. "Keep away from Grace!"

Karl's face quickly reddened as he turned to her. "You evil thing!" he shouted at her. "I'll make you pay!" He lunged at her and Willie let fly with two shots. Karl staggered, first toward Willie, then towards Grace. He then turned a third time toward the wagon, took a few steps, then fell behind it, out of sight.

Grace let out a scream and ran toward the wagon. “Karl!” She stopped at the corner, looking down where Karl lay. Her shoulders slumped. She slowly turned back to Willie. Willie stood there, wondering why she wasn't thanking him for freeing her. Willie was hoping she would faint into his arms, but she just stood there. He wasn't sure if she was scared, relieved, or in shock over the shooting.

"Well, you're free of him now," he told her.

"Free," she said. "Free, but what will I do now?” She looked up at him with either resignation or fear. “I can't run his freight business, I don't know anything about it,"

"Don't worry about anything. You can come with me!"

"Can I?" she asked, her big brown eyes glistening in the light. "But we have nothing. Just look at us, a broken-down wagon and no money."

Willie laughed out loud and happily told her, "We have plenty of money! Let's take a ride.” Willie untied his horse, swung into the saddle and held his hand out. “We'll have to ride together, it would take too long to unhitch your horse from the wagon.” Grace took his hand and climbed onto the horse. She pressed against him and held tightly. Willie thrilled as he felt the warmth of her body. He spurred his horse and the two took off.

As they rode down the trail, Grace squeezed Willie tightly. He slowed the horse. “What's wrong, Grace?”

“I was thinking about Karl. We can't just leave him lying there. I've heard tell about a golden wolf that wanders the desert snatching bodies. I loved him, once. I have to bury him, I can't leave him to rot or have scavengers....” Her words were choked by a sob.

“We'll be quick, I promise. Just a little farther.” Willie spurred his horse to a gallop, until the rock spire came into view. “See, just a bit more.” Willie nudged the horse towards the rock. He dismounted, kicked apart the barrel cactus, and pulled out the saddlebags. “Here's what we're after.” He placed the bags across her knees and turned the horse back towards the road.

After a few minutes, the pair arrived back at the wagon. Willie let Grace down. He dismounted, throwing the bags behind his saddle. He opened the bags and grabbed two handfuls of money and tossed them in the air. "We're rich!" he gleefully told Grace as the bills fluttered to the ground. "I have over twenty thousand dollars and more in bearer bonds.”

Grace smiled. “Did you get that in Millersville?"

"Sure did," he replied. "I just walked in to the express office, stuck my gun in the clerk's face and..."

His voice trailed off. Grace stood there, smirking at him now, the smile gone. A chill went up Willie's back.

"Thanks for the confession!" Karl's voice rang out.

Willie spun to the sound and fanned his six-shooter at Karl who was now standing, uninjured, off to his left. Willie's jaw dropped. “The bullets, why aren't they....” Karl just stood there, a smile playing across his face. Willie looked at the gun, confused. Grace moved to Karl and put her arms around him.

She laughed at Willie. "I put dummy rounds in your gun."

His shoulders drooped as the gun slipped from his fingers, the useless weapon falling in the dirt. Karl came over and picked up the gun and shoved it in his belt. “Pick up that money, then get that wheel on the buckboard so we can head out. Don't worry, it's ready to go, no lifting required.”

Afterward, Willie was cuffed to a metal rail across the back of the buckboard. "Who are you people?"

Karl brushed back his duster and showed Willie the badge pinned on his shirt. "Postal inspectors. If you'd looked, you'd have noticed you also have US mail in your haul."

"Robbing the mail is a Federal offense," Grace added. "You'll be doing time in a Federal penitentiary, Willie."

"Good job, Mr. Smith," Grace said.

"Good job, Mrs. Smith," Karl replied, tipping his hat.

“Just one question,” Willie asked. “How did you find me? I haven't spent any of the money. I haven't been in any town since the job.”

Karl turned to Willie. “We picked up your trail outside Millersville. There's a cut on your horse's front horseshoe that makes nice sign for tracking. No big city to hide in and you couldn't risk being seen in a small town close by, so we knew you'd be heading south. Maybe try for Mexico. We hopped on a train to Yuma, bought the wagon and headed north to cut you off. Picked up your trail again a few days ago.”

“You tricked me. I fell for a pretty face and led you right to the stash.”

Grace laughed as Karl helped her onto the wagon. “Thanks for that. We needed the money to prove your guilt. Don't feel bad. We've used the fighting couple gambit before. Once we saw you didn't have the money, we went to the fake killing. In fact, you're the second person to fall for it this year.”

Willie started to rub his neck, wondering how the rope would feel.

Karl climbed onto the wagon bench and looked over his shoulder at Willie. “Don't worry, Willie, robbing the mail isn't a hanging offense. You'll probably be out in twenty years.”

“But I killed...tried to kill you.”

Grace laughed. “Hard to charge a man for killing, if you set him up for it. There won't be any murder charges, just the robbery.”

Karl snapped the reins, jostling the saddlebags. Willie looked at them, just out of reach. “I was so close. If only I minded my own business. I should have taken my own advice.”

Grace laughed.

Now, a woman's laughter no longer held any charm for Willie. He hoped he'd never hear a woman laugh again as they headed down the trail towards the nearest marshal's office.

THE END