The Award Winning Short Story:
The Unforgettable Mrs. Juvene Sullivan
The sun was not yet up when Texas Ranger, Copper Anderson stepped into the saddle and headed north. He was a tall, lean man, standing well over six foot in stocking feet, with wide, powerful shoulders that tapered down to a small waist. He wore a black, flat brimmed hat that covered a full head of reddish-blonde hair he kept neatly trimmed and combed and he had a thick,drooping mustache of the same reddish color.
For the most part he was an easy going man; a man of few words, but when he spoke folks did well to listen. But there were some that would say he was a little to quick to use his fist and guns.
On his arrival in Weatherford, he checked at the train depot first to see if there had been any suspicious activity concerning the sale of horses, to which might have been loaded on the train. After finding there had been none, he rode north along the trail toward the ranch of Mrs. Juvene Sullivan. He was well short of the ranch headquarters when he spotted a horseman traveling along a distant rise. Wanting to know more about the lone rider, he kicked the steel-dust into a canter and rode in that direction.
He had only reached the spot where he had seen the rider disappear when a voice called out from a stand of nearby tree, “This is private land.”
“Copper Anderson Texas Ranger,” he called back, “I'm looking for a Mrs. Juvene Sullivan. Can you tell me where I might find her?”
“That would be me.”
“I hear you've had some horses stolen.”
“Yes I have, right at fifty head, but they're not getting any more. Not if I see 'em first and can get to my rifle.”
“Maybe if we work together we can stop 'em, might even find the ones that are already gone.”
The woman stepped from behind the tree with the rifle still up to her skinny shoulder, “You say you're a Ranger?”
“Yes ma'am. Copper Anderson is my name, and I'm with the Texas Rangers. I have been sent here by Captain John Hughes to see if I can find your horses, and the man or men who took 'em.”
She slowly lowered the rifle and said, “Come on over and let me take a look at you.”
Copper stepped down from his horse and started in the woman's direction. She was a small, thin, frail looking woman no more than five feet tall. She wore a much faded long-sleeved shirt, and jeans, and an old floppy, wide-brimmed hat. Her dark, brown eyes were stern, and fearless, and the deep lines running jagged across her aged face said much about her character. This was the face of a fighter, a woman who would stand up against all odds for what she believed in, a woman who would fight a person tooth and nail expecting no quarter and, in return giving none.
When Copper got to within arms reach, he put out his hand and said, “Mrs. Sullivan, how nice it is to meet you.”
She shook her head, “I don't know about that, as you will find out Mr. Anderson I'm old and grumpy.”
Copper smiled and asked, “Mrs. Sullivan is there a Mr. Sullivan?”
Her thin face suddenly went blank to the question then quickly turning she stared off into the distance for a long moment; when she finally did turn back she had tears running down her cheek. “Oh Lord. At one time not long ago there was. All this wouldn't be happening if he was still with me. Yes sir, Ranger Anderson, Conrad Sullivan was a fine man. The answer to your question is no there's no Mr. Sullivan only a memory. Found him a year ago in a wash just west of here, shot in the back. Whoever killed 'im didn't even have the nerve to look 'im in the face when they did it.'
'My son Avery went looking for the man that killed his paw, but he never came back, I keep hoping, but I've got the notion they killed him too. Now it's just me and Little Avery... That's my grandson, his mother died giving him birth. He looks just like his daddy ... My lord, he sure does. I swear I've never known of man marking a son so much after himself. He talks, and walks just like 'im. Why, sometimes when he cuts those dark, brown eyes at me,” she said with a smile, “I lose track of which one he really is.”
“Where is your grandson now?”
“Avery, Ben, and Whitt are over on the west side watching the water-hole. Of course that's where the horses bunch up during the heat of the day; he doesn't want anyone just riding in there driving 'em off.”
“Is that the way they got 'em the last time, form the water-hole?”
“They've hit us three times, and every time it's been in a different place, just like they kinda knew where the horses would be.”
“You said Avery is on the west side with two other men, who are they?”
“Oh, Ben and Whitt... they're my boys ... not really my sons. Conrad and I had only been in this country a little more than a year, when one evening we were just sitting down to have supper when a wagon pulled up in front of the house. We walked out onto the porch to see a young man helping a woman down from the seat. Come to find out she had just given birth two little twin boys four days before, but something was wrong and she wasn't doing well at all. We put that girl in bed and watched after her as best we could, but in spite of all we tried to do she died a week later. Euless Morehouse was her name, and her husband's name was Thurman. I'll never forget 'em … she was a beautiful young woman. The two little boys were called Ben and Whitt. It wasn't long after she died, we got up one morning and Thurman was gone. He didn't take his wagon or team … nothing … just his old saddle horse. We haven't seen hide nor hair of 'im since.”
Copper turned at the sound of horse hooves clicking stone to see two men riding from the north. “Who have we got coming here,” he asked.
“Albert Edwards and Cecil Duke; they work for me. Avery hired 'em after the barn burned down to help build the new one, when all this horse stealing came up, we kept 'em on to help watch after the place.”
“We saw a rider,” the one leading the way said, as he drew in his horse and stepped to the ground, “thought we'd come see who he is.”
Juvene Sullivan pointed, “Albert Edwards this is Copper Anderson he's a Texas Ranger.”
Hearing the words Texas Ranger the man seemed to become very nervous. His expression suddenly went blank, and he stuttered when he tried to speak, “Glad to meet you,” he finally said with a nod, then he quickly cast his eyes down toward his boots.
“And that one there,” Juvene Sullivan said. “Is Cecil Duke.”
Copper looked up at the man still sitting astride his horse, to find he was looking away, and never did look toward him or Mrs. Sullivan, and he never spoke a word. To the Ranger, both men were acting a little suspicious, but just because they were acting a bit strange didn't mean they were horse thieves. It might mean they just didn't like talking to lawmen. Looking back at Mrs. Sullivan, he said, “I need to talk to your grandson can you point me in the right direction?”
She threw up a hand, “Due west five miles. Just over that rise yonder, you'll come upon a trail; stay with it and it'll lead you straight to 'im. Don't worry about finding 'im Mr. Anderson, because he'll have his eyes on you a good bit before you see him.”
Copper tipped his hat; gathering his horse, he mounted and rode west. Out of all the men I track, he thought as he rode, I dislike horse thieves the most. His mind jumped back to the time his own horses had gotten stolen, and the almost year it took to get them back, and only then after tracking the outlaws into western New Mexico Territory. It was there along the Gila River that the McNair brothers were starting up an outfit. The only problem was they were stocking it with stolen horses. It was shortly after Copper returned to Texas that he let his friend Roy Dent talk him into joining the Rangers.
Ahead and away three riders suddenly appeared on the trail riding at a canter and they all had rifles. Copper slowed his horse to a walk and as the riders approached, he drew up in the shade of an old oak to wait. He could see that the one riding out front was not as big as the two riding along behind; as the leader drew in his horse; he leveled his Winchester and shouted, “This is Sullivan land.”
“Anderson is my name, I'm a Texas Ranger. I've come to help you folks get your horses back.”
The man lowered his weapon, “Avery Sullivan is my name and this here,” he said pointing to each, “Are my uncles, Ben and Whitt.”
Copper nodded to the two red haired men with the much lighter complexions; looking back at Avery Sullivan he said, “I met your grandmother back down the trail, and the other two ranch-hands.”
“Is Grandma okay,” the dark haired boy asked.
“Just fine,” Copper answered.
“Got coffee back at camp,” Avery remarked as he spun his horse, then he said, “Uncle Ben, you and Uncle Whitt swing north and ride through the canyon over on the far-side, if you see anything let a shot go and I'll come running.”
Throwing up an understanding hand, the two men broke from the trail and rode north. Copper and Avery continued west for better than two miles then topping a steep, rocky rise they swung at right angle and rode into a stand of oak where a camp was made.
Copper stepped to the ground; looking west he had a clear view of the little valley, in the bottom was the spring, and around it mingled about two hundred horses.
Avery filled two cups, when he handed one to Copper he said, “We've got some of the finest horse flesh in these parts. My Dad and Grandpa worked hard getting this herd build up, and I ain't 'bout to let someone ride in here and take it away without a fight.”
“I don't blame you,” Copper said as he sipped at the coffee, “Can you tell me a little 'bout Albert and Cecil? How long have they been working for you? Where did they come from? And where they were when the horses got stolen?”
Avery's eyes got big, “You don't think they had anything to do with it, do you?”
“I'm not saying anybody had anything to do with it, I'm just trying to find a place to start looking. They seemed to get a dab nervous when they found out I was a Texas Ranger.”
“About four months, I reckon. I hired 'em after the barn burnt to help build a new one. When we were finished I sent 'em back to town, then the horses started coming up missing. But I know they didn't have a hand it, because the last two times the horses were taken they were both right here on the ranch.”
“Where did the rustlers hit first,” Copper asked.
Avery pointed, “Right down there. They got twenty-five head the first time. Then we moved the herd north of the house, the next night they struck again and got fifteen. This last time, we moved 'em over on the east side, and kiss your foot, three days later we were a dozen short. They're riding right in under our noses and taken 'em.”
Copper pushed up to his feet; shaking the last of the coffee from the cup, he handed it down, “Much obliged for the coffee. I'm going to mosey along, I'll be in touch.” He mounted and rode off the hill toward the water-hole.
It was now clear to him that whoever was stealing the horses was working for the ranch, or someone being fed inside information by someone working for the ranch. If not how would they know where the horses were moved each time?
Copper took a good look around the water-hole, but did not find the first clue. He rode north in a zigzag pattern trying to find where someone had made a camp, or where several horses had traveled across the ground at one time. When dark came he bedded down up high on a hill and a half-dozen times during the night, he stood and let his eyes sweep the darkness looking for the flicker from a campfire.
At daylight he cooked coffee then he threw the hull on the steel-dust; worked it down in place and he cinched it up. Stepping into leather, he made his way on north.
It was well after midday when he reached the water-hole on the north end of the ranch. He rode a wide circle around it, and found no more than he had at the water-hole before. However, he was now sure that whoever was taking the stock was riding unshod horses, for he had not found the first hoof print showing a horse with iron on his feet. Laying that thought aside, his mind jumped back to the two men riding with Mrs. Sullivan, and to the horses they were riding. In doing so, he remembered clearly both of those horses were shod.
He rode on, but it wasn't until the sun's bright, yellowish glow was nearing the western horizon that he began looking for a spot to make evening camp. He wanted a place up high so he could look out over the prairie after dark in hopes of maybe spotting a campfire.
He had just ridden to the top of a short, rocky ridge and started down the far side when he noticed something moving among the rocks. Instantly he drew in his horse and sat looking, but unable to figure out what it was, he nudged his horse forward and rode closer. It wasn't until he was right upon it that he realized what he was looking at.
Quickly he stood tall in the stirrups and let his eyes scan the area, when he was sure he was alone, he stepped to the ground. Picking up the piece of odd-shaped burlap sack, he let his eyes scan the along the ground until he found the piece of broken string that had held the burlap in place. Instantly Copper knew why he had not seen any signs. Whoever was taking the stock was warping burlap around their horse's feet to keep them from leaving tracks.
Again Copper's mind leaped back to the two men, he didn't know why he kept thinking about them, but something kept pushing his thoughts toward them.
At daylight the Ranger was already horse back headed south. He had made up his mind that Albert Edwards and Cecil Duke knew more than they were telling, and indeed might be the ones responsible for the missing horses. If it was those two who had taken the stock, how had they got the job done without help? Copper knew that two men driving twenty-five horses through this hard, rough country of washes, deep canyons, and endless patches of mesquite, and prickly pear would have their hands full without help. He also knew just because he thought they had taken the horses didn't mean anything in a court of law unless he could some how prove it. He had to have more evidence, or come up with a plan that would force the two men to show their hand.
Copper rode on with one eye turned to the ground looking for signs and the other watching the trail ahead. The sun glared down white and hot from high in the cloudless midday sky. Heat waves danced in the distance distorting all shapes that lay beyond. To the south and far away a dust-devil suddenly grew up from the hot earth and started twisting its way across the land, then as it had started, it ended, in just a swirling puff of wind.
He was nearing the east water-hole when he suddenly noticed a reflection coming from an outcropping of large boulder and even though it was still a good ways off, he was sure it was the two hired hands, and they were watching him. At the water-hole, he let the horse drink then made his usual search of the ground getting the same results as before. After a bit he moved on south with the hopes of finding Mrs. Sullivan. Copper had suddenly come up with a plan, but to make it work, he needed her help and the help of her grandson and her two sons.
He had only ridden over the next rise when she walked from behind cover to show herself. Copper turned his horse and rode in her direction
“Evening ma'am,” he said with a tip of his hat.
She nodded back, “You found out anything?”
“Maybe,” Copper answered while stepping to the ground. “I've got something in mind, but I need your help to make it work.” Copper pushed his hat back, “I think the men who took your horses are working for you. And I think they're watching us right now from those rocks west of here.”
“Oh no,” Juvene Sullivan said with a heavy sigh, “What makes you think that, Mr. Anderson?”
“The people taking your horses are riding in here and just riding off with 'em. They know where the horses are, that tells me it's someone who knows what's going on around here. I've ruled out your grandson and the two uncles ... that only leaves you, Albert and Cecil.”
“Well it sure ain't me and if it is those two how are you going to prove it?”
“Well that's where you come in,” Copper paused to think then said, “I want you to let it be known that after searching and not finding any clues, I have given up and gone back to Waco to report to my Captain. Then I want you to order the horses moved back on the east side. When you get 'em over here, I need you to suddenly remember that you and Avery have business in town, and it might take a day or two to get back to the ranch.”
“Business,” Mrs. Sullivan questioned, “What kind of business?”
“It don't really make any difference,” Copper answered, “Just tell 'em you have business in town and you need Albert or Cecil to take you home and hook up the buckboard while the other one goes after Avery. When your grandson arrives tell 'im to stay with you and send the two men back to watch after this side of the ranch while your other two sons watch after the west side. If my hunch is right Albert and Cecil will see their chance and will lead me to the horses or to the hideout where I will find whoever it is helping them.”
The woman shook her head and said, “I sure hope you're wrong, Ranger.”
“I might be,” Copper answered, “but this way we'll know for sure. Will you help me, Mrs. Sullivan?”
The little woman thought for a long moment, then nodded her head, “Yes I will, either way I want to know.”
Gathering the reins, Copper mounted, and rode off in the direction of Waco. He had not ridden far when he glanced back over his shoulder to see Mrs. Sullivan riding toward where the two men waited in the rocks.
When he was well clear of being seen, Copper swung the steel-dust east, and rode for better than a half mile, then turning north, he made his way along a dry creek bed. Then staying well below the horizon, he worked his way into a stand of oak that grew thick among some large boulders just east of the water-hole. From here he would have a clear view of the horses and of where the two men had made their camp.
After stripping the saddle, he led the steel-dust east and down hill to a little draw covered thick with grass and put the hobbles on. Back among the trees he scratched out a hole between two large boulders where he could build a small fire that would be completely out of sight from the eyes of others. Now all he could do was settle in to wait.
The sun's bright glow hung straight over head, when Copper quickly pushed up to his feet at the sound of thundering horse hooves; he looked west to see the herd break over the rise. When the horses were on water, and settled down, the group of cowboys, and Mrs. Sullivan rode into camp. Moments later Avery and his two uncles rode out headed back west. Now it would be up to Mrs. Sullivan to put the next step of the plan into motion.
For the rest of the day and through the night all was calm, but just after the sun's light giving rays had raised above the tree tops to the east, Copper heard a loud, excited voice call out; it was Albert Edwards, calling out to Cecil Duke. A short time later, Mrs. Sullivan with Albert riding beside her rode off toward the house, and Cecil left the camp riding hard toward the west. Now Copper knew, only time would tell if he had guessed right, or if he'd made a mistake.
By late evening the herd had move north from the water-hole in an attempt to graze on the better grass. It was dark when the first man rode back into camp. Copper did not hear him ride in, but he did see the flames from the fire when it was stoked back to life. Using the darkness for cover, he saddled the steel-dust and rode slowly in that direction. He had no more than stepped to the ground when he heard another rider come into camp. And knowing it was more than likely the second man, he moved swiftly and quietly among the rocks and brush until he was closer enough to see.
The two men stood at the fire talking to one another, but it became evident what was being said when Albert suddenly started for his horse. When he led the bay back into the glow of the campfire Copper saw the burlap on his feet. After saying something to Cecil, Albert stepped into leather and rode off toward the east.
Copper quickly retraced his steps to where he'd left his horse tied; staying only close enough that he could hear the sound of the outlaw's horse moving across the rocks, he followed along behind as he was led in an easterly direction for better than two miles.
Copper had just ridden up out of a draw when he spotted the fire. Knowing he had probably found what he was looking for, he swung his horse north, and come up from behind. When he had ridden to within view, he saw three men standing around a campfire. He eased down from the saddle and moved close enough to hear, but he could only make out a word every now and then. He did however hear the word tomorrow and the word night and knew that whatever they were planning would happen tomorrow night.
Not waiting for the meeting to break up, Copper got his horse and headed back the way he had come. When he got to the water-hole, he swung south, and worked his way on west to where the two uncles had made a camp. After explaining to them what the situation was, he instructed Ben to come with him while telling Whitt to ride to the ranch house to make Avery and Mrs. Sullivan aware of what was happening, and for Avery to meet him in the stand of trees just east of the water-hole, but not to ride in until well after dark.
The day moved slowly, but as every day ended so would this one with the sun fighting for life as it sank further behind the western horizon. Not long after the last glimmer of light had faded from the redness of the evening sky a dead darkness had fallen across the valley. Copper waited for the moon to appear, in hopes of having some light, but that never happened.
Ben spoke through the darkness, “Why in the world have they got that fire so bright, a person can see it a mile away?”
“That's because they know who's coming, that's why,” Copper answered, “They're not looking for horse thieves, they are the horse thieves,” Suddenly, the sound of many horses traveling over rocks caused all movement and talking to stop. Copper hunkered down and stepped quickly to the edge of the trees where he drew up beside a boulder to wait. It wasn't until he heard Mrs. Sullivan whisper to Avery that he realized she had come with them.
“Hold your fire,” Copper said, when he had gotten everyone's attention he added, “Let me get my horse and y'all follow me. We'll move in close to the camp; when the other two get there I'll arrest 'em.” With that said, Copper mounted and led the way through the darkness. Coming to where he had left the steel-dust the night before, they slipped to the ground and made their way north on foot until they could see the two men sitting at the fire.
“Avery,” Copper whispered, “I want you to take Ben and y'all move around to the west side. We need to take 'em alive if we can, but if they start shootin' let 'em have it. We for sure don't want 'em to get away.”
“Okay,” Avery answered then the two men moved out.
When they had disappeared into the night, Copper turned and whispered, “Mrs. Sullivan, I want you to stay with me … Whitt you need to move on over a little ways, no need in us being bunched up tight if shootin' starts.”
Copper swung his eyes back upon the outlaws to see Albert standing with a cup of coffee in his hand talking to Cecil, but the only words he could hear was when Albert said loud in Spanish, “Mucho bayo,” which he knew meant, many horses, then excitedly rubbing his fingers together; the outlaw said even louder, “Mucho dinero,” which Copper knew meant, much money. The two outlaws laughed out loud, but the laughter quickly faded when they heard horses coming up the hill.
Knowing it was time to raise the bet or fold, Copper reached down and flipped the leather loop from over the hammers of both Colts and loosened them in the holsters. Then as quietly as possible, he worked the lever on his Winchester. He looked through the darkness in the direction of where Avery and Ben were supposed to be, but unable to see anything past the glow of the campfire, he only hoped they were in position.
The newcomers rode into camp, and to the lawman's surprise there was not two outlaws as he had expected, but five, and they stepped to the ground amidst loud, hoots and hollers coming from both men at the fire.
Anger suddenly swept over Juvene Sullivan; she suddenly moved forward with her rifle up. Copper caught her by the arm and pulled her back. He had no more than did so, when the camp suddenly erupted in gunfire.
Copper swung his eyes to see Albert and Cecil falling to the ground, and the newcomers holding smoking guns. Instantly he stepped from the shadows and called out, “Texas Ranger, you men put up your hands.”
Surprised by the unexpected, loud voice, the five outlaws spun, as they turned they fried.
Copper pulled the trigger. The outlaw nearest the fire grabbed at his middle and flipped over backwards. Copper quickly worked the lever but before he could fire a second time, a rifle barked out from the west side sending one of the outlaws staggering backwards. Again the night air filled with a loud roar when Juvene Sullivan pulled the trigger on her rifle sending a bullet through the night that found its target with deadly force, the impact lifting the outlaw off his feet then slammed him hard against the ground. The remaining two horse thieves broke for cover, but had only taken two maybe three steps before their lives too were shot from their bodies.
In only moments the gunplay was over, the cool night air hung heavy with the smell of burnt gun power. On the ground the seven outlaws lay dead, two of them doubled-crossed and killed by their own gang members.
At daylight Copper led the group east to the outlaw's camp then following a well traveled trail north, they found the missing horses in a gorge just a few miles south of Springtown and by dusk the horses were back where they belonged.
The next morning with help from Avery Sullivan and his uncles the bodies were loaded over the saddles then Copper rode south toward Weatherford where he turned the dead men over to the sheriff. With that done, and after having a bite to eat in the café, he mounted and rode toward Waco. And he did so with hopes that Juvene Sullivan's son was not dead and that he would soon return.
