Beatrice and the Beast, page 31
He looked up with not a little, surprise crossing his countenance.
‘I never really thought about it, Miss Mellowday. I guess I do it to relax, but I can’t speak for everybody.’
‘I would have thought filling your lungs with smoke, would have an entirely opposite effect.’
‘Well that’s your opinion Miss Mellowday. Maybe you will never know unless you try it for yourself.’
‘Alright, I will.’
She stood up and took a couple of steps to where he sat, coming to a stop in front of him. Then to his surprise, she stooped at the waist and took the cigarette from between his fingers. He was so shocked by her impulsive action, he didn’t have time to warn her as she placed it to her lips and drew on the cigarette. She mimicked the way he had breathed in through his mouth to draw the smoke into his lungs and as he’d expected, began coughing uncontrollably and the coughing became so violent, she found herself staggering around as she tried to control it. He quickly jumped to his feet and went to her side where she was bent forward with her hands on her knees, practically choking from where the smoke had caught in her throat. She was also gasping for air as her face went bright red from the violence of her coughing fit and Zelletta became very concerned as he tried slapping her on the back and stupidly, asking if she was alright.
Eventually, she got the coughing fit under control and drew in huge breaths as she tried to replace the smoke in her lungs with oxygen. Once she had composed herself and finally, stopped coughing, she turned his way and glared angrily at him.
‘Why did you allow me to do that?’ she cried. ‘Why didn’t you warn me what would happen?’
‘What?’ He said incredulously. ‘I didn’t get a chance to warn you.’
‘I do believe you allowed me to smoke so that you would be able to laugh at my distress Mister Zelletta.’
He stared at her in disbelief.
‘Do you see me laughing Miss Mellowday?’
‘No, but that is only because your silly prank almost went horribly wrong.’
He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Everything that had happened was down to her impulsiveness yet she happily, blamed him.
‘Silly prank?’ He almost yelled. ‘Silly prank? Let me remind you Miss Mellowday, I was quietly enjoying an after-supper smoke, when you took it upon yourself to snatch the cigarette from my hand and take a pull on it before I had a chance to warn you what might happen.’
‘Well you led me to believe it was a relaxing pastime and was completely harmless.’
‘I did no such thing and anyway it is relaxing and harmless to experienced smokers, but beginners have to take it easy and be careful when they take their pull on a cigarette.’
‘Well,’ she snapped. ‘If you think I’ll ever again, place one of those dirty, filthy things between my lips, you have another think coming Mister Zelletta.’
‘Good,’ he replied. ‘Now if it’s ok by you, I’ll finish the smoke I was enjoying until you decided you wanted some too like the spoilt kid you are.’
She glared at him with her fists clenched for many moments after he turned his back on her and went to return to his seat. Then she stamped her foot angrily and made a loud growling sound.
‘You are so exasperating Mister Zelletta. First you inflict terrible harm on me by allowing me to nearly choke to death, then instead of sympathising with my plight, you unconcernedly, wave me away like a naughty child and casually, go back to your smoking.’
He took a puff on his cigarette and looked up to regard her tear streaked, but nonetheless, pretty face and his longing for her filled him with sorrow. But he managed to overcome his desire and pretend flippancy.
‘You should drink some more coffee Miss Mellowday, it will ease your sore throat, I think. Then maybe you should wash your face in the creek before you turn in.’
He turned his face away from her and randomly, stared into the fire and she felt as though she’d just been randomly dismissed as though she were nothing more than an afterthought. She stared open mouthed at him for a while and when she finally, realised he had no intention of acknowledging her anger, turned away and stomped off to the creek.
Zelletta lifted his head and called after her.
‘What have I told you about taking your rifle with you whenever you go off alone?’
She stopped and her back stiffened as she deliberated over whether she should simply ignore him, or follow the instructions he had instilled into her on a daily basis about her rifle. After standing still with her small fists clenched while she fought with her conscience, she decided to reluctantly, do his bidding. So, after a loud shriek of frustration, she returned to where the Winchester lay with her saddle and picked it up to carry with her to the creek.
After attending to personal needs, Beatrice washed in the creek and dried herself on a bandana she had taken to wearing on Zelletta’s advice. she’d found it useful under several circumstances, not least when the wind whipped up dust into her face and she was able to glean a little comfort by covering her mouth and nose with the large square of material.
After she had washed, she felt a little calmer and more rational. The incident with the cigarette had been entirely her fault, she was absolutely clear about that. But she had become so embarrassed about the coughing fit, that shifting the blame onto Zelletta, seemed to be the right thing to do under the circumstances. Now, her anger was directed at herself for the impulsive way she’d taken the cigarette from him and taken a draw from it without asking his permission first.
After drying herself, she stood and began to head back to camp. Then an impish thought entered her head and she smiled wickedly as a scheme to teach Zelletta a lesson developed in her mind. She recognised he hadn’t been at fault, but in her irrational thoughts, causing him a little anxiety, would help make up for her earlier humiliation. So, instead of heading back to camp, she crossed the creek and followed it downstream for a few hundred yards until she found a cluster of large bushes. After finding a small opening, she crawled into it and found an open area where she was able to lie down comfortably and wait for Mister Zelletta to come searching for her. She felt sure it wouldn’t take long before he became disquieted about the length of time she had been gone and when he searched the creek and found her gone, he would surely become nervous as to her whereabouts. Especially when he realised, without her, he wouldn’t get paid, and she felt certain, his fee for delivering her safely, was what drove him.
As she lay in wait for him to come searching for her, there was no way she could have known that both her and Zelletta would soon be in mortal danger and that she would have a tough decision to make if they were to survive.
THIRTY-SIX
Normally, a man who stayed alert, even when sleeping, Zelletta allowed his thoughts about his young companion to take over his mind. She had become his obsession and try as he may, he simply couldn’t get her out of his head. The idea that he would never see her again once they reached Zimmerman’s ranch pained him more than he cared to admit and he knew his life after they parted would be empty and meaningless. She had become the most enchanting and fascinating creature he had ever known. Even her anger toward him which he found to be nothing short of cute, endeared him to her. The way her big eyes blazed and her sweet voice raised an octave or two to emphasise her point, was like a quiet and peaceful day, being galvanised by bird-song.
His mind balked against admitting he loved her, but deep down, he knew he did and that was what would make it so heart rending when he had to leave her with Zimmerman and ride away. Especially as, far from him being the kind, elderly gentleman she had been led to believe. He was a cruel and vicious tyrant who ran his business with an iron fist and woe betide anybody who made an enemy of him.
He surrounded himself with tough gunmen and hard men and paid them well to protect him and his ranch against the many enemies he had made down the years. Zelletta himself had been one of them for a while, attracted by the high wages and easy life. But he soon discovered he didn’t fit in with the type of ruffians he was required to work with. So, after coming upon one of them molesting a young female housemaid and in his rage, beating the man half to death, he decided to move on and do what he did best; hunting down killers and rapists. That was when Zimmerman came up with his proposal and offered him a small fortune to head for Wichita and wait there until he received a telegraph indicating the date and time his young bride to be would arrive. Then escort her to his ranch where he would be remunerated with the balance of the generous amount he’d already received.
It had seemed easy money at the time and would give him a good start when he settled down and built his own ranch. Of course, he would need to take extra care with her being a city woman and unused to travelling over rough terrain. But for just three or four weeks of having to put up with some complaining old lady, he was being paid far more than the job required.
When he first set eyes on Beatrice as she walked with the station master, he wondered briefly, if she might be the woman he was sent to meet, but immediately, dismissed that thought. She was far too young for Zimmerman, even though he’d sometimes, displayed a penchant for young females. However, seeing Beatrice walking along the boardwalk as he rode past, made Zelletta’s heart skip a beat and as she stared back at him, her pretty brown eyes held him in thrall and he was only able to break the spell after he’d passed her by. It was only after he arrived at the station to find nobody waiting, that the realisation hit him. She had to be the one. She had probably waited at the station and thinking nobody had turned up to meet her, had likely asked Chambers if he knew of somewhere for her to stay. Zelletta felt a certain amount of gratitude to the station master for not directing her to one of the cheaper hotels in the town, where she would have been totally out of her depth with some of the rowdier elements that were accommodated in those establishments.
Though he would never show it, his delight when he first met her face to face was completely, overwhelming and when he carried her back to the boarding house from the rowdier side of town after she’d been jostled by cowboys, was something he would always remember with great fondness. Her small delicate form nestling in his powerful arms had felt so fragile, he felt as though if he squeezed her too hard, she would break. But the feeling he experienced as she held her arms tightly round his neck and pressed her tear streaked face to his broad chest like a frightened child made her seem so vulnerable, he wanted to protect her for ever and never let her go. Every time he helped her down from her horse, he trembled inside even though his demeanour remained indifferent and riding double with her on his horse with her sleeping against his chest had almost, lifted him to paradise.
Now, with only a week or less, left to their destination, he was beginning to feel morose, even melancholy, about coming to the end of their journey.
Unusually, he had become so engrossed in his thoughts about the young woman, that he failed to detect approaching danger until it was too late and he was struck on the head by a rifle butt.
He came to just minutes later and found himself lashed to a tree by rope. He was in a sitting position and a length of rope had bound his neck tightly to the tree as well as his arms, so that he was unable to move his head without choking himself in the process. He heard men’s voices off to one side of where he sat and his thoughts immediately, turned to Beatrice and whether or not she’d been taken by whoever had knocked him out. She had been due back long before they attacked him, so in all likelihood, they would have taken her before they jumped him and he desperately feared for her. The poor girl would be terrified and there wasn’t a damned thing he could do to help her.
Carefully, because of the rope bound tightly round his neck, he turned his head to try and make out who had jumped him and if whoever it was, had got the girl. He made out two men sitting facing the fire with their backs to him but there was no sign of Beatrice and a little hope began to rise up in his heart. It seemed, she had managed somehow, to avoid capture and he willed her to get as far away from here as she possibly could because the men who sat by the fire weren’t gentlemen and he very much doubted they would treat her like a lady.
After a while, one of the men turned to look his way and seeing he was awake, nudged his partner with an elbow.
‘He’s awake.’
The other man climbed to his feet and turned to face Zelletta who recognized him immediately. He walked to where the big man was tethered and looked down at him. There was a huge grin on his face which was belied by the hatred in his eyes.
‘Howdy Frank,’ he said amiably. ‘I knew one day our paths would cross again and I guess this is my lucky day.’
Zelletta remained silent, deciding the remark wasn’t worth a response.
‘Ain’t you got nothin to say Frank?’ Is it ‘cos you know I’m gonna kill you for what you did?’
Still Zelletta remained silent as he glared back defiantly at his captor.
‘No matter,’ continued the man. ‘I just want you to know, I ain’t gonna make it easy for you. I’m gonna make sure you die slow and painful to make up for what you did to Donny.’
Despite the threat, Zelletta could only think of Beatrice and wonder where she was and hope she had realised the menace and gotten as far away as she could. If she had any guile, she would have taken one of the horses and rode away giving her a better chance to put some distance between them. He couldn’t protect her now but he could hope she’d learned ways to survive during the short time she’d been travelling with him.
Zelletta had recognised the man as soon as he stood up and headed to where he was tethered. His name was Clem Brandon and he was the younger brother of a man, Donny Brandon, who had been wanted for murdering a prostitute, and other crimes. But he didn’t just murder the poor woman. He beat her to death in a blind rage because she refused to perform lewd and unnatural acts with him. Zelletta had captured Donny and collected his bounty when he delivered him to the marshal of Kansas City. Donny had subsequently, been hung and Clem Brandon had let it be known, he blamed Zelletta for his brother’s death and wouldn’t rest until he’d made him pay with his life. Zelletta didn’t recognize the other man, but figured, if he was a friend of Brandon’s, he had to be just as much a snake in the grass as he was.
Brandon stooped slightly and punched Zelletta with as much force as her could muster, full in the face. He was a big powerful man, almost as big as Zelletta and the force behind the blow, knocked Frank’s head back hard, against the tree. It dazed him but didn’t knock him unconscious so he was still able to comprehend what Brandon said.
‘That’s just for starters. By the time I’ve finished with you, you’ll be wishing you wuz dead. That’s if you ain’t already.’
Zelletta felt groggy and found difficulty in keeping his head from slumping forward. If that happened, the rope would be straining against his throat and restrict his breathing.
Brandon spoke to his partner.
‘Blackie, go and check on his supplies. We might as well have us a good meal while we’re here. He sure won’t need food where he’s goin.’
Blackie laughed and went to sort through the supplies which were situated not far from the fire. Zelletta figured they hadn’t yet checked the animals which were grazing a short way downstream. If they had and if Beatrice hadn’t taken her own horse and fled, they would see there were two horses and begin to get suspicious. Even if she had somehow, managed to steal her animal away, Blackie would notice there were two saddles when he checked the supplies and conclude, there were two of them. That however, could be to Zelletta’s advantage. If they thought there was another man with him, they would be wary of exposing themselves knowing somebody could be lurking out there with a rifle trained on them. If they thought that, they wouldn’t be so cock-sure and would want to keep their heads down, in which case, torturing him knowing they were sitting ducks, might not be such a good idea. On the other hand, they could simply shoot him and get the hell away from there. Whatever happened was out of his hands. He was more concerned for Beatrice than himself and he willed her in his mind, to get as far away from there as she possibly could.
Brandon was making a big show of sharpening his knife on a stone right in front of Zelletta, when Blackie came back with a huge grin on his face.
‘You look like you found a stash of gold,’ said Brandon.
‘I ain’t found no gold,’ replied his partner. ‘But I sure found something interesting.’
Brandon looked at him quizzically.
‘There’s two saddles and when I checked where he hobbled his horse, I found two hosses and a mule.’
‘Goddamn it,’ growled Brandon looking around fearfully. ‘That means he’s got a pard out there somewhere and he could be watching us right now.’
‘Not he,’ replied Blackie. ‘He’s got a woman with him.’
Brandon gaped at him for a moment.
‘The hell you say. How do you know that?’
‘I found a bag full of women’s doodads.’
‘Well now,’ said Brandon gleefully. ‘Ole Frank here got his self a woman. Don’t that beat all? An ugly bastard like Zelletta travelling with a woman. Maybe she’s as ugly as he is and nobody but him’ll have her.’
‘I don’t know about ugly,’ responded Blackie. ‘But I figure she’s young and small and she ain’t fat neither ‘cos them duds look like they were made for a young girl or at least a small woman.’
‘That’s even more interesting.’
Brandon turned to regard Zelletta who felt as though his heart had been crushed. Now they knew about Beatrice, they’d want her and if she hadn’t fled as he hoped, she would be in very deep trouble.
Brandon held his knife to Zelletta’s face close to his eye.
‘Tell me about the woman Frank.’
Zelletta simply stared back with eyes full of hatred.
‘She might be an Indian,’ put in Blackie. ‘She’s carrying one of them deerskin dresses that squaws wear.’
‘Well how ‘bout that?’ Growled Brandon. ‘Ole Frank’s got his-self a squaw.’
