Lucky Clove

ucky Clove

                             

         The grandfather clock ticked over at the far wall, and Clover was deep in thought mostly because she was bored.

Clover thought how much more exciting it was when she was a bandit, but those days were long gone. Now she was sheriff, how ironic!

She scoffed, after she barely got away from that last heist, the one where she and her friend were actually hired to kill the mayor of a town. Her old lover was about to be strung up by some irate citizens.

She had not bothered anyone since for some reason.

Clover looked at the clock, almost time to get ready.

She tied her lank blond hair back, and shrugged on her duster. Clover checked her revolver; she almost didn’t know why she bothered anymore.

The west was much tamer now that she wasn’t roughing it up. Besides, no outlaw would get within fifty miles of the town that Lucky Clove kept an eye on.

Clover locked up the sheriff’s office, it was time to marshal poker night at the saloon.

         At the saloon, Clover watched the men gambling their small wages away, and the rest was used on cheap whisky.

Second to last round, she had that old itch to gamble again, “Just one round” Clover told herself. As she walked over to a table, she laughed at herself and mumbled, “Famous last words.”

The dealer’s eyes rose as she sat down, “Miss Clover…? Should you-?”

“Clam down, Jack, It’s only one round.” She smiled an old mischievous smile.

She played her hand expertly and with her smirk of confidence, like always.

The dealer, Jack, told her, “There’s a new face in the last round, Miss Clover. He’s itching to play you, I can tell.”

Clover looked up from under her wide brimmed hat, “Anything else you can tell me? Want to know if he’s worth the time and risk of my job.”

Jack smiled at her antics, “Real shady guy, looks tough. Don’t know much more than that, Miss Clover.”

Clover got up, looking for this mystery poker fanatic, “He sounds good, Jack, seen his face?”

“No, Miss, He’s got good poker face alright… the brim of his hat works just fine for him.”

Clover thanked him for the round and spotted the man she didn’t recognize in the crowd. She was not thinking of playing him actually. He would just have to play someone else.

She watched him, he did look dangerous, and she needed to make sure he wouldn’t start any trouble in her town.

He was leaning back in his chair, his chin resting on his chest. Was the man asleep? Sure looked like it.

Most of the other folks started to clear out of the saloon, the afternoon’s pay checks had disappeared under the men’s whisky by now.

Clover still watched the man, she would definitely not leave until he did.

Trusting him would be a mistake; she knew that much.

The man raised his head slowly, and he stared right into her hazel eyes.

She shuddered, she knew this man, but he couldn’t be… he was dead!

He had to be dead.

He got up and started to walk over to her.

Clover was trying to decide if she should be happy or not. She looked at her feet.

His boots came into view next to her own. A warm hand caressed her cheek, and it felt so alien to her.

“You aren’t happy to see me Clover?” a tenor drawl said, sounding hurt.

“Theodore?” She asked absently, still shocked.

“Who do you think?”

He lifted her chin so she could look at him.

“What do you want, Theodore?” Clover replied irritably.

He looked taken a back, “I only want to see you Clover!”

Clover rolled her eyes and pushed him back, “No really, what do you want?”

He scratched the back of his head, “I want a place to stay, and I’ve nothing but the clothes on my back.”

Clover sighed, “You can sleep in my rocking chair, it’s better than the inn here.”          Clover walked her horse home, Theodore followed.

On the way to her home stead, it was on the out skirts of town not to close to anyone else, Clover thought of what she was going to do with this old flame.

“I can’t just turn him out, and it’s not only because I still care for him. To get back out of poverty he will rob and murder. Maybe if I can get him to settle down...”

Clover thought of the probability for that to happen.

One in a billion.

“Well, why did I settle down? Why would it be harder for him?”

Clover started to doubt herself, and questioned if she should have settled or not.          The answer would come soon enough she hoped.

         It was late when they walked in the door of her four room house. Clover lit an oil lamp and showed Theodore the rocking chair by the fire place.

         “There’s where you’ll sleep, it’s a lot more comfortable than it looks. I’ll find you a quilt.”

         When she came back with a quilt for Theodore, he was looking at a locket that was on the mantle, “I gave this to you before you had even started being an outlaw with me, you were only seventeen, but I loved you like a fool.”

         Clover snatched the locket from him and put the quilt in its place, but she asked level, “You had supper yet? Or do you plan to feed on nostalgia?”

         “Yes, I have had my supper.” Theodore added, “Why are you like this? Why are you being so sharp?”

         Clover thought a bit, “I don’t know, Theodore. Perhaps I have just moved on, as you can see, I’m sheriff ‘round here. I know you and I don’t want you to get in any sort of trouble.” Theodore nodded understandingly, “Alright, Lucky Clove, you’ve hung up your big shotgun, I see.”

         Clover smiled thinking of her big shotgun, “I still have that old thing, do you remember that train heist back in New Mexico?”

         Theodore chuckled, “Yes, to use that gun I remember you having to prop yourself up on a wall!”

         Clover grinned, “After I had used the five shots I had, I just fired gun powder and it still kept the whole train car quiet. More than one young fool fainted at just the gun blast.”

         Theodore and Clover conversed for a long while on their adventures and after a while Theodore said, “It would be nice to do that again.”

         Clover mused, “Maybe.”

         Theodore ventured, “Why not? Just one more time, and then we go and live the rest of our lives on the cash!”

         Clover saw that he was being slightly serious, “I don’t think so, Theodore. It took me awhile to get this far. Even if it would be tons of fun, I don’t want to start over again.”          Theodore looked at the clock on the mantel, the night was old. “You just sleep on that, Clove.”

         Absent minded, Clover went to bed.

         Had she just woken up two wild beasts?

         Would she become an outlaw with Theodore again and throw away so much time?

         It did sound awful nice, even though it was a lot of work and some nasty parts to it. It was always fun before. That is, until Theodore started to get greedy, and started to boast of their lawlessness in the taverns.

         He almost got himself killed by boasting, and she did let him be strung up by angry citizens (or so she thought) even when he was the only person she had. She did leave him to be killed and she still was trying to run away.

         She did not care that he would’ve been horrifically murdered… Lots of people did it, not them, but people did it.

         It was what he deserved then, right? Justice? That’s what they both deserved most likely. So, why bother trying to atone for it? What they have is one sentence, a sentence to hell. It can’t get worse, so why try to cover it up with a so called “righteous” life?

         Clover argued with herself some more.

         She would tell Theodore no, and the life she had made for herself was just fine and it suited her.

         What was past was past and it is only human to have bouts of sinfulness, didn’t the good reverend tell her that every Sunday?

         She was saved by the Church so she had nothing to worry about in her past, only in her future.

         Such as… what she was going to do with Theodore.

         Clover woke up earlier than usual. She wanted to get to work before she had to deal with Theodore; she almost hoped by the time she got home from work that he would be gone.

         She fried eggs for breakfast and left quickly for the sheriff’s station. Theodore was sleeping in the chair and stayed sleeping long after she had left at five in the morning.

         When she arrived at the station she sat down at her desk and slept until deputy Moss shook her awake at seven in the morning, when she would have normally come in. “Sheriff Clover, wake up, Miss. Clover!”

         Clover woke with a start.

         “What’s wrong Sheriff, why you sleeping in here? Did something happen to your house?”

         Clover was drowsy and so was baffled by the questions, “Calm down Deputy, ok, ask each of your questions, one at a time.”

         The older gentleman straightened up, “Why are you sleeping at the station, Sheriff?”

         Clover crossed her arms and blew out a breath, “Rather not talk about that, Deputy. Sorry.”

         Moss was no fool, “Is it that man that left with you last night? Did you know him?”

         Clover just answered plainly, “Yeah, I knew him, Moss.”

         Moss queried, “Are you sure you know him? Or is it just Lucky Clove that knew and loved One-Shot Ted?”

         Clover let out a sigh, and rattled out the hearsay, “They say Theodore only used one bullet, he actually just could shoot so fast that it seemed like one shot...”

         Moss was quiet for a little bit, “Do you still love him?”

         Clover scowled, “I don’t think I do but my own passions and desires have always eluded me.”

         “Well, loving a man like him is dangerous, Clover. You may remember how fun it was, how prosperous you were, but inside you, it eats you up. You’ll have nothing left, trust me, I’ve seen men like that, and they’re like husks.”

         Clover smiled at the older man, “Thank you, Moss. I needed that.”

         Clover added, “We’re not paid to sit around and talk about men’s souls, leave that to the seminaries. We’re here to give what little law we can.”

         With that they proceeded with the morning work, and few words were spoken.

         Around noon, the sheriff and deputy started milling around town, making sure every one played fair with each other, straitening out crooked store keepers and keeping one eye on sweet talking penny pinchers.

         Clover was checking up on Jack while he was at his new day job, you couldn’t live off just a dealers wages.

         Jack was beaming with his new store clerk apron on, “You’re moving on up, Jack. Two jobs! With any luck you could get yourself a house and a honey soon.”

         Clover said, she teased him like this often; it was all taken all in good humor.

         “Why thank you, Miss. Clover! I’ll be saving up.”

         Clover added, now serious, “I’ll be keepin’ my eyes peeled for a place for you to set up a home stead for yourself, I’ll help building too if you need it.”

         Jack blushed a little, “Oh Miss, you needn’t do that for me, thank you.”

         They herd a clamor outside arose the street, at the saloon. Clover was in the dusty street, ready to bring down the law on someone’s head.

         Two men in the saloon were fighting, the rest of them watched as it went down.

         Clover walked in the saloon to get a closer look, no one minded her they were watching the fight.

         Calls for bets went up, whoops and hollers in between. The bets were between, Clover could make out… Samson Ulric and, Clover scowled, One-shot Ted.          Theodore had gotten him self in a fight for money, of course.

         Clover was not going to let this go on, she brandished her revolver as a club.

         She pushed through the crowd and let herself in the little circle the men had allowed for the trouble makers.

         Luckily, the fight had barely begun Mr. Ulric only having a bloody lip. Now he had a lump where he was pistol whipped by Clover.

         Theodore was being dragged to the station before anyone would pluck up the courage to stop the irate woman.

         Clover held Theodore like a misbehaving child. “What the heck do you think you’re doing, Theodore!?!”

         “I’m trying to get some spending money!”

         “Get a job!”

         “Clover, we both know that that was a job, its called entertainment.”

         “No! You’ll ruin business for the town if you rough it up! I won’t allow it.”

         Theodore’s eye brows rose, “Oh? And who put you on your high horse? The law? Please, spare me that. Being the law is not any different than being outside the law. You do the same things, just for different ideals. Ha! Ideals! It’s all just business! No outlaws, no sheriffs. No sheriffs, no outlaws.”

         Clover thought on this, let it sink in a little, “Yeah, We’re all on different sides, we look at different things to drive us in our supposed duties if you want to look at it that way.”

         Clover got a little closer and stared Theodore in the face tumultuously, “Right now my duties tell me to get you the hell out of my town. I’d suggest you take me up on that offer. After church tomorrow I had better not see you in this county ever again.”          Theodore nodded tightly.

         “Good.” Clover spat out. She turned to leave.

         Theodore said, “Are you sure that this is only your duty? Or have I cornered the beast, Lucky Clove? I don’t let cornered dogs stop me, Lucky Clove.”

         Clover whirled with fire in her eyes, “Lucky Clove died! You smothered that bonny lass in lawlessness long ago, and you can’t have her back! Don’t you get it?! You can’t have what you broke! You can’t get me, or who you knew, back!”

         Theodore was left speechless, with an unreadable expression on his face.

         Clover went home, needing to cool off. 

         Clover was a bit startled that she just exploded, all of a sudden. “Where had this come from? Am I really that angry at him? ...Why?”

         Clover let her thoughts be still for a little, waiting for the muddy waters to clear up in her heart.

         Toward Theodore, she felt… Encroachment on her life, like a cage taking her to a seemingly beautiful place, but was really filled with fierce wild beasts.

         She had felt the bite of those beasts.

         She remembered the fox’s bite that was a fiery, wicked tongue.

         She remembered the lion’s claws that were greed, it had torn her heart.

         Most of all she remembered that harpies’ screech, a callous, cold and cruel heart.          That was her poison; it made her veins freeze, then boil.

         She was disgusted at her young, naïve, blindness that had her hindered from the straight and narrow for so long, and now she was lost in brambles.

         She got home, at least it offered a reminder that she was mostly settled down now. It was an illusion of being not as adrift as she really she was.

         She slept a tiring sleep full qualms and doubts.

         The next morning, Clover sat absent mindedly in church. Singing and at least looked like she was listening to the sermon, but she was really debating within herself.          Two sides raged: one was if she really should have rung out Theodore the way she did. The other raged on that he deserved to be shot and that she should have done it.          The first argument was winning.

         “Maybe I was too harsh on that boy… he’s never been taught different after all…” She thought this to herself, “Well people are people and they are what they are, right? I couldn’t have changed him, he was just gonna do the natural thing… stealing and murdering! I should have had him hung, to save more of himself and others now he’s going to wreck havoc on some other town, out of my reach!”

         She thought a little then went back to the cross roads in her mind, “But can I really justify his murder and theft with execution? Isn’t that just a fancy word for group murder?”

         Clover did not know… she didn’t dwell on deep questions like this! She had not set her morals straight she just did what seemed fair. Never had she have to deal with something so intimate.

         What if she regrets it?

         What if she fails in her duties?

         What if she was the cause of the capability of his wrongs?

         What if she could have ended it, right then, no more lives to be darkened by his wrongs?

         But… what if…?

         At that moment deputy Moss ran into the church, everyone gasped with surprise.          The old man quaked and sputtered out something. Clover jumped over the pew and held up her dear friend, her greatest counselor, he whispered into her ear, “Ted… robbing the bank…shot me, he shot me, Miss…”

         Clover was dumbfounded, her great friend, the one who’s always been there, his light was being snuffed out, right before her eyes, “I’ll stop him…I will… I promise I will, you hold me to that one, Moss. You hear?”

         Clover was desperate.

         “No, don’t; don’t do that, Miss Clover. I refuse, don’t kill him, just don’t…” the old man’s heart gave out, just then.

         Time for work, she had to kill Theodore.

         Nothing would stop Clover.

         Outside the bank all was quiet, nothing moved. The door had been forced opened by Theodore and he had stolen a good amount of the town’s money.

         Was he gone already? She doubted it, not his style.

         Sure enough he came out on some stolen stallion, saddle bags stuffed with money.          “Good morning, Lucky Clove.” He said.

         Clover wiped out her pistol like quick silver and pulled back the hammer, “Who, Theodore?”

         Her face radiated with a burning hatred for this man, he killed her friend and a part of her long ago. Theodore scowled, but then smiled, “You can’t kill me, you never will, spineless whelp you are.”

         Clover gripped the gun until her knuckles were white, towns people started to gather, waiting for justice.

         Theodore had his smug look on his face, “I thought so.”

         He looked at her a moment more, “I wish Lucky Clove was here, if she was here, she would have actually shot me!”

         He spurred away on his horse, still an easy target for Clover, and he would be an easy target until he was just a silhouette on the prairie.

         She held the sight of the gun over his head for the longest time. The words of her departed friend rang in her ears, and her head screamed, “Do it. Get it over with, you can make this go away right now with one shot, one painless shot, it will all go away.”

         Her heart whispered, so much quieter, so much harder to hear, “Don’t do it, and just stop the man. Don’t shoot him, this is not your place, not you decision, whatever you do it won’t go away, the painless way is to stop him, just stop… just stop…”

         Her head cleared, “Just shoot, right there, you know the place, right there.”

         The town’s people were a bit baffled, “Shoot him Miss. Clover! What are you waiting for Sheriff?! Shoot!”

         She lowered her revolver, started the walk away and then, stopped. She looked back, realized what to do.

         A little casually, she raised the gun at the small man riding away. “Oh, Theodore this will hurt a lot, I’m sure, but if it makes you feel any better, you did this yourself, good job.”

         The shot shattered the morning, all watched as the small man slid from his horse.          Lifeless? Who knows? Clover just left to spend the rest of the day at home; the people put their money back in the bank, and dealt with Theodore.

         Clover was sitting in the clinics ward, by the sleeping figure of Theodore. He awoke, fluttering his eye lids.

         Clover set her jaw.

         “Where am I?” a groggy voice said from the pillow.

         “Hospital, Theodore.” Clover answered with a dangerously level voice.

         He looked at her and winced as he shifted, putting weight on his right shoulder. “Ouch! What? My shoulder…?” Theodore was baffled that he was actually alive.          “Yeah,” Clover sighed, “Thank my conscious that you’re alive.” Clover got up and towered over the man, “Now, you’re discharged from here, this county, for good. Understand?”

         Theodore said, “But…”

         “No! You’re leaving! Get your stuff right now!”

         He did as he was bid. At the door of the clinic Clover was hitching up a wagon with a casket in it, she was getting ready to burry Deputy Moss.

         Clover said at the man in the door way, “Get out of here and don’t show your face here ever again! Now! Next time I see you, I’ll shoot you without a second thought!”

         She cocked her revolver and nodded to a horse, “Get on that, one minuet, if I still see you, I’ll start shooting, you don’t even deserve that, I know.”

         He jumped on the mare and rode off, for his own sake he would not be seen again.          Clover did not bother to wait; she went to burry her friend.

         Her dirty hands still felt the earth as she sat listless at home. Heart ache now was better than future regrets, she hoped… Oh, yes, she still loved Theodore dearly… she wasn’t going to hurt again, though. His heart was a cave, the man had been eaten up a long time ago. She loved a shadow… that is what she hoped.



R.I.P

Elwin Moss, Deputy

Shot by One-shot Ted

What wondrous love this man had for his fellow man.

What wondrous and great love.

All because of fool’s love.