Deacon in Trouble

By Doug Ball

The Deacon is in trouble again. He got himself married to his bodyguard who is kidnapped three times as she struggles to set herself up as a private detective. The Deacon comes to her rescue only to kill a man with many kin. Strange men come to town, strange crimes take place, and a strange ending about covers his life for this period of time. How much more could he ask for?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Doug Ball
• Release date: Jul 20, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005376956

Doug Ball

Born in California and raised in Arizona. Grew to love the west at a young age while growing up in a blue collar home. Never knew we were kinda poor until I was 21 and making more money than my dad. Dad and mom were still raising three of my siblings. It was a shocker. I joined the navy after high school to get out of school and promptly went to over 2 years of technical schools. Rode submarines for 20 years and retired. Went back to school and earned a D. Min. while I pastored a couple of small town churches full of great people. My big dream in life was to be a cowboy and own a ranch. Santa never brought me a horse. At 37 I bought a horse and a ranch and lived my dream. I started writing at 39 and sold a few pieces to Mother Earth News, Countryside, and Arizona Magazine, along with many others. Wrote my first book and quit mailing out that western after 47 rejections. Nobody ever read it. That western is BLOOD ON THE ZUNI which has all five star reviews to date. Got the itch and kept writing. I recommend GENTLE REBELLION. It is the story of the life I wished I could live for years. I wrote it in my head on many a mid-watch at sea. PS. Sea horses are no fun to ride.

Book preview

Deacon

In

trouble

BY

DOUG BALL

BOOKS BY

DOUG

Copyright 2020 – Douglas H. Ball

Cover designs by the Author

Cover art by the Author

This is a work of fiction.

Any resemblance between the characters of this book

and persons living or dead is purely coincidental, of course, with the exception of historical figures. Even then the persona is that of the author’s imagination.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.

Dedicated to

all the wannabee Cowboys

whose guns are in the closet

and their horse lost its last race.

And of course

my beloved

Patti

Deacon

In

Trouble

By

Doug Ball

DEACON IN TROUBLE

St. Louis, Missouri

Do you, Rebecca, take this man, Daniel, to be your lawfully wedded husband; to have and to hold, in sickness and health, richer or poorer, in good times and bad, so help you God?

I surely do. Took me long enough to catch him, I ain’t lettin’ this boy go.

There were a few chuckles from the audience.

And, do you, Daniel, take this woman, Rebecca, to be your . . .

I interrupted with, I sure do. No doubt about it. She’s tougher than bull leather and twice as purty. I’m in for the duration.

Laughter.

Well, now. Folks I’m kinda at a hard spot here. Y’all think I outta tie these two up in a contract with God that’s good for life?

The folks was the woman I called mother, Miss Evelyn, the wife of my dead phony preacher father, her new husband, Marshall Terrance Boswick; the owners of the Bagdad mine, John and Will Lawler; my other dad, Earnest; and a half dozen hangers on that was just waiting for the food. I was kinda sorry my Yavapai friend, Walking Eagle, wasn’t here except for one thing, he’d try to get me to marry up with three or four young ladies as was the custom of his tribe in the Prescott area.

We were standing together two weeks after Rebecca had tried to leave me standing in the middle of nowhere, Kansas. I asked her for her hand and she said she needed a gold ring to put on it. I had enough gold for the both of us after my real mother died and the property was sold. Rebecca got her gold ring and said yes to the wedding, but stated she’d need two weeks minimum to get ready. Dang, I was ready right then, real ready.

Well, we telegraphed mom and Terrance. They sent back, WAIT TIL WE GET THERE STOP. I didn’t know what I had to stop, I felt I hadn’t even started.

Everyone agreed to the contract. It was sealed with a kiss, or two.

In an hour, lots of folks had left the lobby, the cake was gone, the pig was a pile of bones, and I had me a gold ring on my finger, so did Rebecca. We was married and that was forever. We had us a couple of rooms at the top of the stairs of the Hotel St. Louis. She sneaked up the stairs to change clothes. I gave it five minutes by the lobby clock and did my own sneaking. I hadn’t even gotten my britches changed when I heard a knock on the door.

Who’s there?

Rebecca.

I ain’t decent yet. Hold on.

She came back with, I don’t like waiting. Remember?

She hated waiting. Rebecca hated waiting with a passion.

I’ll be there in a moment. I slid my britches up and tucked in my shirt. Rolled into my deer hide jacket, slung my guns around my hips, and walked to the door.

How’s that, I said as I opened said door.

She wasn’t there. Rebecca hadn’t waited.

I went down stairs.

Terrance met me at the bottom. She said for you to catch up when you can, in a rather angry voice. You got you a fire ball in that gal. You’d best hang on for dear life.

Where’d she go?

Down to the livery where the horses are. You two are leavin’ town, remember?

Oh, yeah. Got us a reservation at the . . . Oops, I can’t tell ya that. See ya, Dad.

Have fun son and keep them guns holstered in this town. Folks already know the Deacon is here and you don’t need a shootout for your honeymoon. Get after that gal. NOW!

I ran out the door smack into Rebecca standing there holding two horses.

We rode actually five blocks down the street and three blocks north. Our hotel was waiting for us. The boy on the stoop took the horses around back to hide them in the hotel stables. A fella at the desk said all our bags was in the room and handed us a key with a big tag on it. Guess they didn’t want them lost or something.

We went up to the room on the fifth floor, the top floor, and I unlocked the door. After I walked in, I turned around to kiss my bride.

She was still standing in the hall.

Come on in.

She stood there.

Come on, I’m tired.

So am I.

Come on i . . . I stopped cold. I remembered what Earnest had told me about the first night.

I walked out the door, bowed to her, and lifted her in my arms. I kissed her as we crossed the threshold and set her gently on the bed.

I walked back and closed the door.

That’s all you need to know.

Three days later

We rode out of town on the morning train headed west. Our goal was Denver, where we would listen for opportunity to knock. I wanted to get rid of the guns and settle down in a nice place without all that goes with wearing the guns and the reputation I had. Rebecca wanted to set up a detective agency in Denver. We were working on a blend that would make both of us happy.

She had sent letters to the Pinkerton outfit and asked if she could set up an office for them in Denver only to find out they already had an office there. I had communicated with a small town in the mountains about filling the position of Pastor for the local church and also circuit rider for some other small mining settlements within a couple dozen miles.

As the train rolled and rocked and just generally kept us in motion hanging on, we discussed our options. I told her I loved her but didn’t think I wanted her being a detective or law officer. She told me she didn’t want to be the local preacher’s wife that sat around having tea parties and discussing who’s expecting and who’s got the brattiest kids or knitting lap robes with a bunch of worn out old ladies. After all, I’m only twenty-two. I’ve still got a lot of good years left.

I asked, What about kids? Aren’t we gonna have any?

There’s always the option of hiring a nanny, she replied with a smile.

Not having an answer to that right off the top of my head, I just kept quiet on the subject.

We arrived in Denver just in time for trouble.

I was standing at the bottom of the steps reaching back to take Rebecca’s hand and her bag, when a man not five feet from me unlatched the tie-down on his holstered gun while he was glaring with hate filled eyes at a man coming out of the depot. As he began to pull his gun, I said, I wouldn’t do that if I were you. You could kill a lot of people. The platform was shoulder to shoulder with people.

You stay out of this, he said as he started lifting the gun.

I pulled my six shooter and stuck the barrel under his nose. Put it back and hook it up.

"You stay out of this.

Put it away. Take your problem to the law.

I looked again and saw a star on the chest of the man coming out of the depot.

The man I had under my gun slowly put his gun away, hooked down, and turned to look me in the eye. That man killed a danged good friend of mine.

That man is the law.

He is. He killed my friend who was a deputy in Tucson three years ago. I been looking for him ever since. Can I help it if he’s found a star.

I looked at the depot again. The man was gone.

You carry out your vengeance on that man here and now, and you’ll hang. Take your case to the Sheriff here. He’s a fair man.

He pulled back his coat and showed me a shiny U. S. Marshall’s badge. I am the law.

Then you know better. Go get him someplace where a lot of folks won’t die when the bullets start flying.

Who are you?

I showed him the red cross on my pistol grip.

Just my luck. Try to pull a gun standing next to the Deacon. He shook his head a couple of times before he added, Go away.

I will. You go to someplace else to get your man. This place is way too crowded to start slinging lead. I put my pistol away and added, Have a nice day.

He grumbled as he started pushing his way through the crowd toward where the man he hunted was last seen.

I looked back to Rebecca. She had her short-barreled Colt in her hand.

My bodyguard.

Denver

Denver had changed a mite since I’d been there last, which wasn’t too long ago. The buildings were growing taller and the streets were in better shape. The crowd on the sidewalks? Same old bunch of folks that was there before. Although I did see many more men in sharp clothes and ladies in some finery of their own. It was a richer town, that’s for sure. It’s impressive what a little gold will do for a town and the people that live there.

Rebecca said, This place has cleaned up a bit in the time we been gone.

Yup, but I’ll bet it’s the same old Denver underneath this sharper front. Just like the false fronts on many of the buildings.

You’re always negative.

Not always.

Name once you haven’t been negative today.

I said, When I opened my eyes this morning and saw you asleep and said to myself, ‘Boy, you done good.’ I wasn’t negative then.

That doesn’t count. I’m always a positive influence on you.

Oh no you aren’t.

The look on her face said something like, ‘You better shut up boy while you’re even.’

I said, Let’s get something to eat. I’m half starved and my belly button’s rubbing on my backbone causing me considerable pain. I looked around. Over there, THE PANTRY, must be a new place.

Lots of fancy clothes going in and out of their door. Let’s go.

We walked across the dirt street, dodging the wagons, horses, and the ruts, until I handed her up onto the walk and into the door.

The place was crowded, but the smell of good food kept us there. We saw a table with two chairs right in front of the window. We both signaled ‘no’ at the same time. No sitting in front of windows for this couple.

May I help you? He was about sixty and had on a spotless apron.

Yes, a table for two away from the windows.

No one wants the window seats except for the ladies from Abbie’s down the street. He paused as he looked around. How about that one, and I hate to have to offer you two this, it’s behind the kitchen door. The door swings out and in, but it does not hit the chair or the table. Both of you can have your back to the wall.

That will do fine, said my lovely wife before I could even find the corner behind the door he was talking about.

Yes, said I.

After seating us, the man in the apron said, I am Arlo. This is my place. You are the Deacon from the looks of your guns and this lady is???

Pleased to meet you, Arlo. This is Mrs. Rebecca Tribidou Fount, my bodyguard and wife.

Oh. A bodyguard?

Yes, she has kept me alive long enough to marry me just last week.

Oh, I see. Welcome to my place, Mr. and Mrs. Fount. I am honored. What will you have? He handed us menus which were printed on a rather heavy paper the size of cigar box top. On one side was food, on the other drink.

Arlo, we’ll have coffee while we look your menu over, please. Again, she took charge before I could get my head moving in that direction. We needed to have a discussion on who’s running the show in this family. But, then again, maybe it’s a good idea to just let it lie.

Yes, said I.

Very well, two coffees it is. Arlo turned and walked into the kitchen, allowing the