ETTA (by ansinico)

Chewing on the end of the fat cigar that was permanently lodged in the corner of his thick lipped mouth. The large man chuckled with amusement at the two disgruntled cowboys. It wasn’t that he was a bully, or then again maybe he was. It was just that if he had to sit waiting in this saloon for someone he didn’t know in fact for someone he didn’t know and didn’t know whether that some one would even turn up. He preferred to be seated in this chair and at this table.

It could without a doubt be called the best seat in the house. It afforded him a view of all the comings and goings and yet keeping himself, or whom ever was seated in the chair a certain degree of privacy. There was a time when this seat would remain empty regardless of the number of drunks, miners, cow hands and cardsharps that happened to be in attendance. Nobody would sit in Barney Fuller’s chair and unless invited at Barney Fuller’s table.

The two unhappy cow pokes were still murmuring their annoyance. Against the man’s better judgement he beckoned over to Sam. He knew Sam and Sam knew Barney Fuller. In Barney’s opinion Sam was the best thing that happened to the Silver Dollar. Before Sam the Silver Dollar had been just another bar. The same as in any other mining town. As Virginia City grew, Sam took control of the Dollar. It wasn’t too fancy and it wasn’t too dead end. He kept a good clean bar. Kept an eye on the fights, made sure that they didn’t get out a hand. Sam knew which punter or hot head to keep a tight rein on.

When he wasn’t doing his job pulling pints and pouring whiskey he was polishing that bar top. Polishing it till it shone so that you could see your face in that bar top clearer than in any mirrored glass. But that polishing didn’t stop Sam from seeing everything that was happening. He knew every deal that was being made and with whom. If you wanted word or a story to be spread you only had to tell Sam. If you didn’t want word of your business to get around then Sam was the man who could keep his mouth shut.

“Mr Fuller?”

The rotund, dark haired man, his apron tied high over his leather belt stood at the equally rotund man’s shoulder. Without removing the cigar from his mouth Barney Fuller smiled up into the round face of the barman. Speaking in a voice, and Barney Fuller had a voice that carried clear across the saloon and out the door. But not this time, this time he was only interested in the occupants of the next table. Barney Fuller in a voice loud enough to carry to the next table. He requested that the barman Sam to bring a drink for the two cowboys that
he had, with only a withering look, prompted to change their seating.

This was the reason Barney Fuller was seated in his favourite chair in front of his favourite table. From this seat he had the advantage of seeing all the comings and goings. He was in no hurry, a small beer and a glass of whiskey were all he required.

He had no doubt from the description that he had been given that he would recognise the man as soon as he entered. Tall, rangy and fit, a handsome featured man with curling brown hair. Usually wearing a red shirt, black vest and hat. How long he had been head man at the Ponderosa Barney wasn’t sure, he hoped that with the offer he had in mind, the man wouldn’t be staying on Ben Cartwright’s payroll for much longer.

Barney had left a a message with Sam. He watched the man now polishing away. This was Sam’s favourite way of killing time. The ‘Silver Dollar’ bar top was the most well kept, shiniest bar top in the whole of the Nevada. The polishing of the bar had another function. Sam unobtrusively could keep those all seeing eyes scanning the room.

Taking a more comfortable position Barney chewed on the end of a fat cigar and deliberated on the on the contents of the letter he had recently received from San Francisco. He was more than sure there was trouble brewing. For one of the few times in his life Barney Fuller was unsure of not just where this trouble was coming from, and what is more to the point, he had no inclination of getting involved.

Was he getting too old for all this malarkey? Yes, without any hesitation he could truthfully say he was. Trouble wasn’t new to him. He had locked horns on many occasions. Often with Ben Cartwright as one of his main antagonists. He had thoroughly enjoyed their battles. But now he had had enough and unlike Cartwright he had no legacy. No sons or daughters to leave his business to. No one to hand over his private kingdom. Yes, he had a foreman who had been with him for some years, but the man as never made of the right metal. Good as he was as a foreman. A very good second in command. The was not a leader, he was a follower, and Barney Fuller needed a leader.

This man of Ben Cartwright’s appeared to fit the bill. A good man, hard nosed, strong fisted, but with a head on his shoulders for more than holding up his hat. Good men were never easy to find. Would he be able to lure the man away from the great Ponderosa and the Cartwright’s. That Barney thought was going to be the bugbear.

Cartwright had a way of keeping men’s loyalty and he could well understand that. Cartwright was a man of his word and he expected none the less from any man or woman he came across.

The letter niggled at him once more, he could think of only one reason for a meeting with a representative of ‘Turner, Larson, and Rawston’.

A representative, Barney took the cigar out of his mouth and spat disrespectfully on to the floor. A representative, that alone put Barney’s back up. Barney Fuller did not meet with any representative he met with the top dog. The ‘bull of the wood’.he had never heard of Messrs ‘Turner, Larson, and Rawston’. He had every intention to find out all he could and if they wanted to pull in Barney Fuller then either Mr Turner, Mr Larson or Mr Rawston or all three had better get up of their San Franciscan back sides and do the job properly.

A nod, it was barely a nod in his direction but Barney caught it. So this was the man, even though he had only a side profile. Barney could tell by the cut of his shoulder and the upright stance that the man was all he had been led to believe. By the calm, quiet manner and outfit. Although he reckoned Cartwright was broader across the back. Barney Fuller decided the Ponderosa foreman ‘Candy Canady’ was of the same stamp as Adam Cartwright. If the man was even half the calibre of Ben Cartwright’s eldest Barney would be a happy man.

Biding his time for he was in no hurry. The foreman had a young fella with him. Excitable sort of a youngster. Looked to be ready to pick up the first chair and heave it through the window, not unalike another Cartwright.

Though to his credit Little Joe Cartwright had surprised a great deal of people Barney Fuller included by not only winning that contract from Will Povey but even with Povey’s unsolicited ‘help’ completing the project on time. The flume, Barney himself had been to Buckhorn Meadow to see was a spectacular piece of work, clever and useful.

Joe Cartwright, eh, who’d a thought that there would have been room in that head of his for anything other than fast women, fast fists and poker, let alone a brain.

Ben Cartwright was a lucky man. Two boys well able to manage their fathers Empire, and the third son a big hulk of a man that never had fooled Barney Fuller. What that man possessed in strength he doubled in bog standard common sense and straight talking. With Hoss Cartwright what you saw you got and what Barney Fuller saw in Hoss Cartwright, a man would be hard pressed and look for a month of Sundays to find, he was one of a kind.

He chuckled as he removed the cigar from his mouth, Cartwright was much more than a lucky man. Barney tapped the non-existent ash from the tip. Rolled the folds of tobacco between his thumb and finger, sucked at the end once and returned it to his mouth. It was a habit that had disgusted and infuriated his late wife but it was a habit that he was comfortable with.

Although she was never far from his mind as too his children Barney J and Brenda. Barney Fuller never spoke of his late wife or of his twins. Who would, had they survived the fire that also took their mother, be now in their mid thirty’s the same age as Ben Cartwright’s eldest.

Matilda Fuller was a fine, good, church going woman who kept her home and her family well tended to in the grand house in Boston they had recently moved into.

The lumber and haulage business that Barney had bought into as a failing mismanaged concern. He had the foresight to see the potential of and he had been correct. Barney Fuller even back in those days was an astute business man. Hard but fair, eventually buying out the original owner. Who very soon drank himself into an early grave. Fuller Haulage and Lumber with Barney at the helm developed into a thriving and flourishing business. It was Barney’s proud ambition in good time to change the name one more time to Fuller & Son Haulage and Lumber. It wasn’t to be. The devastating fire which had started not in his own home had never-the-less no respect for property, title or owner, or too human life. Matilda Fuller and her twin babies perished along with seven other poor souls. Within months of the funerals Barney Fuller had up sticks and headed to the open Frontier. Possibly at the same time as Ben Cartwright journeyed with his two young sons.

Barney though travelled first class, or as first class as there was. First setting up in Carson City, but again seeing potential where others hadn’t. Barney sold up and dug his business heels into the young and rapidly maturing mining town of Virginia City.

A second subtly nod from the barman redirected Barney’s thoughts and attention to the man who was walking toward his table. The young fella he was with having apparently departed Candy stood towering over the seated man. Barney indicated for the tall man to sit by pushing a chair away from the table with the toe of his shoe.

“Mr Canady?”

“Whose asking? And the names Candy.”

Candy well knew who he was speaking to. He had heard of Barney Fuller, who hadn’t, but even so he played his hand close to his chest.

“Names aren’t necessary at the moment,”

Fuller refilled his own glass and poured a nip for Candy pushing it across the table.

“Call me old fashioned but l like to know who l’m talking to, more so when a man has the prior knowledge of calling me by my name.” Candy made a move to leave the table.

“Barney Fuller.” the man held out his chubby, stubby fingered hand.

Candy retook his seat but declined the hand.

“l don’t shakes a fella’s hand till l know what l’m agreeing to,”

Barney chuckled into his chins and removed the cigar, repeated the ritual before replacing it between his teeth.

“l like you already…Candy,” Fuller nodded to the whiskey, “don’t tell me you don’t drink with a fella you don’t know.” Taking a sip from the beer glass he carried over to the table with him. Candy flicked his eyes to the liquor filled tumbler and back to the large, prosperous business man.

“No, not normally but in your case l’ll make an exception.” This time Barney Fuller guffawed loudly.

“l think Candy that you know very well who l am, but you have no reason to be wary, l don’t bite, well, not on a first date,” Barney beamed at his own humour which brought a quirk of a smile to Candy’s lips.

“l’ll get right down to it, lay my cards on the table, l’m looking for a man,” Candy’s half smile widened into a grin, as did Barney’s. “no, not that kind of a man. But a special kind of a man no less,”

“l have a job,”

“Of that l am well aware, but al least here me out,” giving no reply Candy picked up the tumbler and knocked back the contents in one gulp. Barney’s eyes crinkled in satisfaction, “l need some one not just to run my business efficiently, but to manage it as his own with the certainty and assurance that it would one day be his.” Candy’s face gave nothing away, “l am willing to pay whatever Cartwright’s paying plus twenty five per cent more…plus a cut of the profits, a figure to be mutually decided upon.”

Candy kept his expression blank and his composure calm.”Why me? You don’t know me, l don’t know you?”

Barney was prepared for any questions the man had to put. “There are a few ways to answer that question, but just let me ask you something first.”

“Go ahead.” Candy pushed his hat to the back of his head and finished the dregs in his beer glass. Barney raised one of his chunky fingers, Sam obliged with a nod. Within moments the empties were removed the table wiped and the two fresh beers stood ready to be consumed. Barney continued. “Tell me when you first met Cartwright and he offered you the job as foreman did you know him?”

“Nope,”

“Did he know you?”

“Nope.”

Barney sat back and with trouble folded his round barrel like arms over his equally round barrel like chest, again he performed the cigar ceremony.

“l’d say this is pretty much the same thing, ‘cept l know Cartwright and l know he has a knack of reading a fella and knowing a good man when he sees one,”

“So are you comparing yourself to Mr Cartwright?”

“Only in as much that we are both successful in what we do and in whom we chose to do it with.” receiving no reply Barney placed another stepping stone, “why don’t you think on it. I am in no hurry though l would like to get things tidied up.”

Candy had no reason whatsoever to be unhappy or discontented with his position at the Ponderosa. The pay was good and he got on very well with the Cartwright’s. It was the best thing to a family that he had ever had. Even with the return of Adam Cartwright, when he figured his job would be on the line, but that wasn’t. Ben’s eldest son had made it perfectly clear he had no intention of picking up where he had left off. In confidence he had told Candy that with his father obviously ageing he would be gradually taking more of the paper work off of his fathers shoulders. Also that he had already made plans to set up a business in town. He wanted to put to use his knowledge of Engineering and Architecture, after all that is what he spent four years at college studying. Also he could see that the Ponderosa could get along very well without him and that was something he was extremely happy about.

Yet Candy Canady was no fool. Barney Fuller wasn’t just offering him a job. He was wanting to hand over his business hook-line and sinker. Candy knew the man wasn’t a rancher. Candy had some knowledge of the lumber trade and he knew it wouldn’t take him long to learn the ropes. Which brought a thought to his mind.

“My turn to ask a question.”

The man was tempted, Barney was sure but he still had another stone to span the water.

“You have a foreman, been with you long?”

Resting his large head on his broad shoulder Barney knew where this was leading to.

“Jake Tucker, ten years,”

Candy raised a quizzical eyebrow.

“Jake is a sick man, like as he won’t see out the year.” Candy pursed his lips in a silent ‘O’
‘”l trust you will keep that information to yourself,” Candy nodded “and before you ask l have no family of my own.” Barney Fuller laid the final stone, “you know and l know that Ben Cartwright would not stand in the way of you or any man who wanted to better himself. Your loyalty is admirable, which is one of your merits. You will be harming no one by considering my offer, at the moment that is all l am asking, that you give it consideration.”

Downing the rest of his beer Candy stood from the table, this time it was he who held out an arm, both men shook hands, their grips firm in each others palm.

“Mr Fuller, why did l not even reckon a slap up meal at the International?” Candy asked, a wry grin twitching at his mouth.

“Two reasons, one l wanted to see what came came out of your mouth not see what goes into it, and,” he patted one hand on his oversized girth, and gave Candy a clap on the shoulder with the other, “and believe me you don’t want to be carrying around one of these.”

Candy couldn’t help but laugh at the man’s feigned look of dismay. It was at the very moment that Griff returned to the saloon. His purchase completed, his handsome face awash with pride and satisfaction. Scanning the room he saw the vigorous hand shake that Candy gave the bulky, suited man and Griff wondered for a fleeting moment who he might be. But Candy was making his way across the room and Griff couldn’t wait to tell him his good, good fortune.

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Author: ansinico

1 thought on “ETTA (by ansinico)

  1. That was terrific. I like Etta – she is the perfect foil for Adam.
    Please let’s have more of this story.

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