Jenny Kissed Me

By Jim Hawley

Jenny Kissed Me is the story of Titus Alistair, a rancher in southeast Wyoming, near Wheatland, and Leia Riggle, the niece of Tricky Riggle who murdered two people in Wheatland, Wyoming, in 1953. It is a story of horses, love, and strife. Leia must overcome the stigma of her last name and regain her place in the town. Titus is an older Renaissance mana good man but with almost outdated chivalrous ideals. He teaches Leia about horses and, in his own way, about lifeto meet challenges head on and never give up. Both are intelligent and find that they have a lot in common.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Mar 14, 2018
• ISBN: 9781984514851

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Copyright © 2018 by Jim Hawley.

Library of Congress Control Number:             2018903181

ISBN:                  Hardcover                        978-1-9845-1483-7

                           Softcover                          978-1-9845-1484-4

                           eBook                                 978-1-9845-1485-1

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the

product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance

to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 03/29/2018

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CONTENTS

Preface

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

PREFACE

The story of Tricky Riggle is a true story. It is taken from public records of the Wyoming State Supreme Court. It is available online. Platte County Sheriff, Clyde Harris and pharmacist Cindy Geile have kindly given me permission to use their names in this book. All other people in the story are fictional. Any resemblance to any person living or dead is strictly coincidental. Some of the places are actual places. You may see them if you ever visit Wheatland, Wyoming. The poem, Jenny Kissed Me, was written by Leigh Hunt, who died in 1859.

Remember was written by Christina Rossetti, who died in 1894.

Clay Riggle quit high school in his senior year at Macedonia, Iowa. He travelled west and settled in Wyoming. Perhaps settled is not the correct word to use for young Clay. He moved around from town to town at first working for one ranch then moving on to another. After a few years he found his niche in the rodeo circuit. He rode broncs and did fairly well. He found that playing with a rope was fun. He worked and worked on his rope techniques until he became very proficient and could do tricks with the rope. He twirled and twirled the loop of the rope in different patterns. He could make the rope dance, figuratively and literally, as at times he would twirl the rope to music. He could do rope tricks that no one else had ever thought of doing and did them well. From this, he earned the name of Tricky Riggle.

Tricky was of medium height, being about five feet, eight inches. He was slim and wiry to the point of being skinny. He didn’t have large muscles, but he was tough and strong. When work was slow on the rodeo circuit, he would work with the circus for a while. While working with the rodeo, he was thrown from a steer, hitting his head on a wooden fence. Some time later, he was thrown from a bronco and hit his head on the ground and was knocked out.

Then, in 1946, he got into a very heated argument with another man and beat him nearly to the point of death. He was sent to the Wyoming State Penitentiary until 1949. He wandered southeastern Wyoming for a short time, then settled in Wheatland, Wyoming. Within a few months he was working at a local lumber yard - plastering, flooring, stacking lumber, loading trucks and whatever else needed doing. While working for the lumbar yard, he had two more head injuries.

In the spring of 1952, Tricky met Frances Williamson. She wasn’t fat, nor was she exactly slender. She had a heavy voice which thrilled Tricky. He convinced her to pose for him during the rodeo that summer. As she stood, legs and arms outspread, during the fair that year, Frances posed against a thick backing of plywood, wearing a one-piece bathing suit, while Tricky threw knives at her, sticking them in the plywood. He was a great knife thrower and would outline her body with the knives. It was a very exciting and successful act.

In the early spring of 1953, Tricky found he was completely enthralled with Frances. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. One evening at her apartment, Tricky decided the time had come.

You know, Frances, that I’m crazy about you, commented Tricky as he sat on her couch, his arm lazily draped across her shoulders.

Yeah, returned Frances. I can tell you have a crush on me.

No, Frances, it’s more than a crush.

Well, let’s not rush into anything, smiled Frances.

No, no, agreed Tricky. He thought deeply on her last comment. What, exactly did she mean by that?

Look, Tricky, continued Frances. We have a good thing going here. Let’s not complicate it too soon with words we might regret later. Frances knew she was fond of Tricky, he was one of the few men who had displayed interest in her. But she had been married before. It didn’t work out very well. She had known Tricky for a little over a year. Too soon to make any serious plans. Besides, at fifty three years old, she was comfortable with the way things were now.

OK, Frances, sighed Tricky leaning back.

The rest of the evening passed with some kissing and a little small talk.

A week later, Tricky knocked on Frances’s door.

Come in, he heard Frances yell from inside the apartment.

Tricky opened the door and stepped in quickly. He stopped short as he saw Frances on the couch with Walter Akerblade’s arm draped around her.

What’s going on here? questioned Tricky.

Nothing, smiled Frances.

What’s it to you? piped up Walter.

That’s my girl, confronted Tricky.

Who says? returned Walter.

I do, replied Tricky, spreading his legs shoulder width so as to form a stable base. And Frances.

Well, she ain’t never told me that, growled Walter standing with fists clenched.

I’ll show you that you stepped in something you shouldn’t have, spat Tricky, raising his clenched fists.

Now, boys, soothed Frances. Don’t cause a scene. Besides, I just cleaned this apartment.

Walter advanced on Tricky. Tricky moved his left foot forward, assuming a fighting stance. Come on, you, he said through clenched teeth.

The two met with fists flying. After a few blows, Tricky got Walter in a headlock and drug him toward the door. Walter punched him in the mid abdomen, but Tricky’s blood was boiling and he didn’t even feel it. He swung Walter around and, after a full circle which took them toward the door, flung him through the open door and, releasing him suddenly, hurled him into the opposite wall of the hallway. Quickly, Tricky slammed the door and turned the latch. He turned back to Frances, who was sitting back on the couch, at once terrified and angry.

You ain’t gonna see him no more, demanded Tricky pointing his finger in Frances’s face.

Frances pushed his finger away and stood suddenly. I’ll see who I want to see.

Tricky took several deep breaths, his anger slowly subsiding. He stepped toward Frances and put his arms around her. Now, honey, you and me’s gonna get married.

What? breathed Frances, totally surprised.

Yep, nodded Tricky. Soon, when I get off work, I’m gonna come get you and we’s gonna get married.

Frances was too taken off guard to reply at first. After several minutes, she smiled at Tricky and replied, Well, I’ll think about it. She smiled at Tricky. Now, let’s just sit down and enjoy the evening.

The rest of the evening was fairly uneventful. Frances was too surprised (and a little scared) to berate Tricky for his treatment of Walter.

The following Saturday, Tricky had made up his mind that he would take Frances to Lusk that evening after work and marry her. He had a difficult time keeping his mind on his work. He constantly muttered under his breath comments such as, Mrs. Frances Riggle, and Gotta get gas, and Gonna get rid of Walter. He made several mistakes in measuring boards, which was very unusual for him. Finally the day ended. He picked up his lunch box, threw it into his 1937 Chevrolet car. He jumped in and gunned the car toward the room in which he stayed. He rinsed off and put on a pair of striped brown pants, a blue shirt and a clean jacket. He had left his dog earlier in the day with a friend. He drove to Frances’s apartment. He soon found Frances wasn’t at home He then drove through town and noticed through the plate glass window that Frances was in the Top Hat Bar and Grill. He parked the car and strode deliberately to the bar. He entered the bar and noticed that Frances was sitting, having drinks with Walter.

You dirty son-of-a-bitch, shouted Tricky, what are you doing here with my girl?

Now, Tricky, leave us alone, complained Frances.

I’ll get to you later, yelled Tricky.

You’d better get outa here, said Walter standing.

Hey, this man’s bothering me, Frances shouted to the bartender. She stared sharply at Tricky. I think you should throw him out!

Sorry, returned the bartender. I can’t throw him out if he ain’t causin’ no trouble.

Tricky turned his stare onto the bartender. If you throw me out, I’ll kill ya! He turned back to Frances and Walter. His eyes were glazing over. He was so angry he couldn’t think. He whirled and left the bar.

Frances and Walter sat back and finished their drinks then ordered another. They drank these, then sat back. Finally, being a little tipsy and hungry, they decided to cross the street and go to the Angle Cafe for some food. As soon as they had left the bar, they were met on the sidewalk in front of the bar by Tricky.

I can take you anytime and beat you to death with my bare hands! shouted Tricky in Walter’s face.

Anytime! returned Walter.

Tricky turned to Frances. As for you, Frances, I’m through with you!

Yes, I’m darn glad of it too! she retorted.

Yeah, you wanted me to go up to your room a few days ago and I wouldn’t! shouted Tricky.

I never did! screamed Frances.

I never wanted to go to your room and I’m never going to your room! Tricky turned and stomped off toward his car.

Come on, Walter said to Frances.

They walked across the street to the Angle Cafe. Walking in, still huffing after the argument, they walked headily to the stools in front of the long bar. They ordered their food and began talking in tense, low tones.

Tricky had stomped back to his car, then drove the block and stopped in the alley beside the cafe. He left the engine running and jerked his body out of the car. He reached into the back seat and grabbed his 22 caliber rifle. He turned and strode defiantly to the cafe.

He stepped inside and yelled toward Walter, God damn you, I told you I was going to get you.

He pulled the rifle to his shoulder and fired a shot toward Walter. The bullet passed through his uplifted hand and creased his cheek. It being a semi-automatic rifle, the spent bullet had immediately been ejected and a new shell passed into the chamber. Tricky adjusted his feet slightly and fired again less than a second from the time the first shot had been fired. The second shot hit Walter in the chest. In seconds three more shots hit Water’s chest. Walter stood, but his knees immediately buckled and he fell. Frances had not had time to register the scene when four bullets in quick succession hit her chest. Frances fell, dead before she hit the floor.

Tricky quickly turned and raced to his car. Throwing the rifle into the back seat, he sped out of Wheatland. He raced down the road in a rage. He slid off the road and hit a telephone pole nearly breaking it. The car was still running, so he reversed it and got back on the road. He sped further east.

The sheriff arrived at the cafe and found the carnage. Soon the roads around Wheatland, Lusk, Cheyenne, Douglas and