Doppelganger

Dogwood stood across from Holly as daylight streaked the Buffalo Saloon, highlighting its dingy floors and chipped bar counter. Holly was mentally scrambling, wondering how to explain her involvement. Then her eyes narrowed, her plan developing in her mind as Dogwood’s face waited for her explanation. She wasn’t planning to give one as she stood up straighter and more confidently.

            “Where is Henry?” Holly countered, pressing her skirt down and holding her broom to keep herself steady. Dogwood had seen many a convicted man shake into his leather boots. He had seen men bolt away from him. He had rarely encountered a man he could not crack. But women were different for him. They were harder to read and wore disguises under their colored lipstick.

            “Henry’s at the inn,” Dogwood said evenly, his eyes watching Holly judiciously for a reaction.

            “I’m sure he’ll wanna know his father is once again accusin’ me of somethin’ off… a ledger?” Holly asked at the end, trying to snatch it off the table. But Dogwood was quicker and held her wrists.

            “I think the jailhouse would suit you much better than this place. Although both seem fittin’…” Dogwood’s eyes grated into her own, her cowering finally in the fear he recognized in a guilty face.

            “I can help you,” Holly pleaded, trying to wrangle herself from his grasp, “I led you to Penny, remember?”

            “She left town,” Dogwood countered, still not letting go of her wrists.

            “She’ll be here tonight.”

            “Then I’ll lock you up until then,” Dogwood nodded and bound her wrists in his new handcuffs quicker than a duck on a June bug. Holly followed him to his horse where he loaded her up on its back, the shame in her throat for those staring at her.

            “Holly, you alright?” One of the painted ladies asked as Dogwood climbed up behind Holly and moved his horse quickly away from the saloon. Holly glanced back at the painted lady and frowned as Dogwood drove his horse quickly forward. She was shocked to find herself at the inn and not at the jailhouse. He pulled her down from his horse and walked her into the inn where Henry was once again licking his lips and standing at the front desk jotting in his own ledger. He glanced up momentarily and then once more in shock.

            “Dad… what…?” He came quickly around the counter as Holly nearly tumbled forward into his arms.

            “Is anyone staying here?” Dogwood glanced around the empty inn with wilting flowers in wooden vases on two dingy tables.

            “Why?” Henry asked as Holly leaned against him, crying into his shirt. Henry wasn’t sure in his anger if he felt sorry for Holly. He wanted to because he loved her. But love can pull on the heart strings of a man to the point it cripples his ability to make a decision. Yet he allowed her to cry against him.

            “Take her upstairs and we’ll use her as bait tonight.”

            “Bait?”

            “Penny Yearling is gonna be at the saloon,” Dogwood said to Holly who merely nodded, her wrists already aching from being in handcuffs.

            “Do ya think you can at least uncuff me?” Holly asked with irritation and towards Henry who she believed would crack under her gaze. His eyes narrowed and he shook his head at her request.

            “Just take her upstairs,” Henry turned with disgust away from her as he marched towards the kitchen to get a coffee.

            “Henry!” Holly pleaded, her voice stopping him at the door, “I love you.”

            At first, Henry hesitated. But then he flung open the door and left his father to deal with dragging Holly upstairs. Holly didn’t fight him. She quietly followed him upstairs and he locked her in a room. After shutting the door, he stowed the key in his vest pocket. Henry was still in the kitchen when Dogwood pushed open the door. Henry was pouring whiskey into his coffee and cream. Dogwood’s eyebrows raised.

            “Sam sent a rider and the doc just left,” Henry said as he took a long sip of coffee, the whiskey bringing goosebumps to his arms at its strength.

            “He’s recoverin’?” Dogwood implored, pouring himself a coffee from the pot on the stove.

            “He won’t be recovered for a month. It got his shoulder pretty good. Thankfully, it missed everything else or he would be dead.”

            Dogwood nodded, stirring his cream and then adding a spoonful of sugar. Henry was waiting for his father to elaborate but when he did not, he took another long sip and set his coffee down.

            “You gonna tell me how he got shot? Reckon you left that out.”

            “There was a red-head that shot at us.”

            “Penny?” Henry’s eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

            “Fairer.”

            “Fairer than Penny Yearling?” Henry was shocked at this news. Penny was well known for being a wealthy painted lady. She was even better known for being beautiful. She was one of the most beautiful women in Denver. Henry chewed on his father’s words.

            “You think she’s the murderer?”

            “I think a lot of things son.”

            The rest of the afternoon went by slower than usual, Henry’s mind racing for most of it. With Sam upstairs recovering along with Holly locked in a room, Dogwood stayed upstairs most of the day. People went by the Frontier Inn without a glance. By the time evening fell, the doctor had checked on Sam and Dogwood had asked him to come back in the morning. A few minutes later after saying goodbye to the doctor, Dogwood’s boots clacked down the stairs once more with Holly in his wake.

He had also been upstairs contemplating her involvement and skimming through the diary. Henry could barely stomach looking at his wife, wondering if she was partaking in dirty dealings to keep them afloat during the hard times they had been facing. The Frontier Inn was never a booming business even in Denver’s standards. It was always barely in the black in his own ledger. He wondered if his lack of good business skills had driven Holly to try to compensate. Guilt found its way into his heart as he watched her now in handcuffs.

            “If you run when I uncuff you, I will shoot you point blank,” Dogwood sternly said to Holly before he released her from her cuffs. She rubbed her wrists and sighed heavily, her eyes finally finding Henry’s. Henry’s face was hard as he stood next to his father, their resemblance plainer than usual.

            “Can we talk first, Henry?” Holly pleaded, gentleness against her usual businesslike and bossy voice.

            “No,” Henry stated flatly, stepping out of the Frontier Inn and onto the porch steps. His horse was hitched out front and without even a look behind him, he mounted his steed. He wanted to forget what he saw. He wanted to unread what he read. He genuinely wanted love to conquer whatever had happened. But he wasn’t sure that Holly, his wife who would never claim his name or own him fully, loved him more than she loved herself. She mounted up onto Dogwood’s horse without trying to speak to Henry again. They planned to hitch their horses at back of the saloon where Holly said Penny would be in less than an hour. She planned to meet someone upstairs in private which Holly had arranged for her a few days prior.

            Dogwood’s horse found the alleyway to the back of the inn and shops on the street. As they approached, an argument was taking place outside the back of the Buffalo Saloon.

            “She said she’d be here!” A woman’s voice trilled.

            “She ain’t been here all day. I told ya already you’ll have to wait,” the man said crossly, his arms folding against his chest to match his irritation.

            “I am supposed to meet someone upstairs,” the woman repeated through gritted teeth. Her green dress billowed around her waist and dirt clung to its bottom edges.

Dogwood’s horse hung back as he caught a glimpse of the red haired woman. However, it was not Penny Yearling. Holly’s eyes grew wide at the red haired woman as Dogwood slung his reins on the back of the saloon hitching post. Holly climbed down clumsily and stood stiffly at the scene outside the saloon. Henry matched his father, his hand against his revolver in his gun holster ready to fire if needed.

Dogwood’s eyes narrowed as he looked from Holly to the red haired woman. Everything suddenly went up in smoke as the red haired woman fired at him. In the smoke, Holly darted forward away from Dogwood and into the saloon behind the red head. Dogwood and Henry hid behind a watering trough nearby as a few men ran out the back door of the saloon after hearing the gunfire.

            “Who was that?” Henry breathed quietly as he and his father sat side by side catching their breath and mentally figuring out how to get into the saloon. Dogwood looked at Henry in sympathy as though Henry should already know the answer.

            “What? Who was it?” Henry asked, incredulous to his father’s all-knowing stare. He hated the familiar stare of Dogwood knowing something that he did not. It was condescending and as an adult, Henry wanted nothing of it. Dogwood exhaled and then glanced back at the saloon.

            “The coast is clear. Before they flee,” Dogwood stood quickly as his green eyes surveyed the street to ensure nobody else would shoot. He stood with his back against the saloon next to the back door. Henry mirrored him on the other side. He was breathing heavily from the adrenaline.

            “Dad,” Henry was irritated, wanting his father to share whoever this red haired woman could be. But before he could, a man burst out the back door at full speed with Penny Yearling in his wake. It was Mr. Albright. His face was terrified and he was running for dear life away from the saloon. Penny’s eye was cut and her forehead was scraped. She moved as fast as she could to get to the alleyway just as the other red head burst through the door.

Mr. Albright had already escaped down the street and out of sight. The red haired woman aimed her rifle at Penny. As she did so, Henry didn’t hesitate, pulling his revolver and shooting the red haired woman right through the heart. Holly’s sickening scream filled the air as she had her own rifle out after bursting through the back door at the woman’s heels. The red haired woman crumpled as Holly ran to hold her in her arms.

“No…” Holly whimpered as her sister’s body lay lifeless in her arms. Tears flecked her cheeks. Then revenge suddenly rippled up in currents as she remembered the shot had come from the saloon back door. Her eyes narrowed into slits and she stood as she turned herself towards the door. Henry’s gray eyes bored into her own as she held her revolver shaking in her hand.

“Henry,” Holly’s face crumpled and a tear slid against her face as he realized what she had done.

“You killed them?”

“My sister…” Holly pleaded as Henry didn’t lower his revolver. He was going to speak but it was too late. Dogwood shot Holly right outside the saloon.

Henry bolted towards her as she fell into the dirt. He held her as her blood soaked his vest. She gripped his shirt with her breaths laboring as blood poured against her dress. Then she lay motionless and her rifle fell from her outstretched hand.