Sally Master - Cort

Title: Sally Author: Rating: PG Character: Cort “The Quick and the Dead” Disclaimer: The following story has been written with no intention of claiming ownership or solicitation, nor does the author claim the movie character(s) as his/her own. The movie character(s) have been borrowed solely out of a love of the particular movie and is not intended for any other purpose but amusement and entertainment. ~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~ “Cort, someone’s here to see you.” Before the sentence was completed, his hand had a firm grip on the nearby Schofield. “No,” Sally reassured him. “Not that kind of someone.” He released his hold on the gun and raised his head off the pillow. He didn’t care to have his all too infrequent sleep interrupted. “It’s a woman.” “A woman?” Cort’s eyes focused on a tall, slender form standing in the doorway. “Yeah, a proper one, too. What’s she doing here?” “How should I know?” He pulled his long legs under the blanket and raised himself to a

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half sitting position. “What do you want?” The woman stepped forward hesitantly. The lamp on the oak chest revealed that she had dark hair and was wearing a blue dress. “I’m sorry to bother you. My name is Loreen Branford.” She paused. She would never have been in this place had it not been so urgent. “My mother sent me to ask you where John Herod is.” Sally’s curiosity was piqued. She turned to Cort; but his head was back on the pillow. “Good night, Miss Branford,” he mumbled. Loreen stood there for a minute. Sally shrugged. “Sorry, sweetie.” ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ Loreen returned to the hotel room to find her mother sitting in the dark. “What did he say?” “Nothing. He ignored the question and went back to sleep.” “Sleep? Is it that late already?” There was a pause. “Where did you find him?” “Upstairs in the saloon.” “Loreen! You went into a saloon?” “You wanted me to find him.” “But not to put yourself in danger!” “I know,” Loreen said gently. “I want to get this over with, too, Momma.” Cecelia Branford nodded. “I’ll try tomorrow. Don’t worry, I’ll find out where that man is. Now let’s get some sleep.” Her mother sighed. “All right, dear.” ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ “Cort, why didn’t you want to talk to her? Pretty girl, too.” He didn’t budge. Sally slapped his bare shoulder. “What?” His deep voice boomed loud enough to send a mouse scurrying across the floor.

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“You heard me. Who’s John Herod?” “Someone I used to know.” Cort moved onto his stomach hoping she’d stop talking and he could sleep. “Nasty someone I gather.” “You gathered correctly.” “Do you know where he is?” “Yes.” “Then why didn’t you tell her?” Cort rolled over, thoroughly annoyed. “I don’t know who she is or why she wants to know about Herod. If she’s a friend of his, I sure don’t want to be telling her he’s dead.” “What’s that skinny little thing gonna do to you?” “That ‘skinny little thing’ might have some large gun-toting friends. Now be quiet so I can get some sleep.” ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ “Mr. Wells?” Cort recognized the voice and kept walking. He heard small shoes scraping the sidewalk boards behind him. “Mr. Wells, I’m going to follow you no matter where you go.” He stopped. “You must realize that by now.” He turned to face her. “What makes you think I know John Herod?” “My mother said you do. She knows you.” His heart stood still; nothing about this situation could be good. “If she knows me so well, she knows annoying me isn’t a good idea.” Loreen admitted that he looked formidable in his long black duster and two-gun holster. His eyes were icy, but not cruel like Herod’s.

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“She needs to know where he is. She’s afraid of him.” That statement certainly was believable. Everyone soon learned to fear John Herod. Still, Cort knew the most maniacal of people had admirers. He looked Loreen over. Who was her mother? In the five years he had ridden with him he reckoned Herod had gone through more than his share of whores and floozies. Any number of them knew Cort. He turned on his heel and marched off. No, he wasn’t getting involved. “Why won’t you talk to me?” Loreen demanded. He pushed through the saloon doors. A few morning shots of whiskey and a good game of poker was what he needed. ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ “Is he still handsome?” Loreen looked at her mother. There was a longing in her voice. Not for Cort, but for any man. Cecelia Branford had been a beautiful woman. Men had literally stopped on the street and watched her walk by. Even now, at 38, she had long, thick, golden hair and a figure any woman would envy. “He frightens me.” “He’s not someone I’d want to have as an enemy,” Cecelia agreed. “He’s no better than Herod?” “There is no comparison. Cort was always kind to women.” “He’s not being very kind to us.” “You can’t blame him.” Cecelia sighed. “He’s being careful.” “I’ll try again this afternoon.” Loreen imagined she could be just as determined as Cort. ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ Sally was on her way to the saloon; she saw Loreen standing in front of the hotel. She felt bad for her. Cort was a tough nut to crack once his mind was made up. Loreen turned and walked over to Sally. “Do you know where Cort is?” “Nope. Sweetie, why don’t you just forget it and go home? He’s pretty stubborn.”

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“So aren’t I.” “I see,” she replied dryly. Sally was about her height with red hair and tired gray eyes. Loreen didn’t imagine the life of a whore was pleasant. “I’m not interested in him, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Sally laughed. “You know that first night I was a tad jealous. Although, I don’t know why. He doesn’t belong to me.” There was a sad annoyance in her voice. “You care for him, don’t you?” “Yes, I do. And I think he cares for me. Dunderhead doesn’t know it.” “How can you not know what you feel?” “You’d be surprised how your past can dictate how you think. Look, I don’t know who this John Herod is, but Cort was affected by him. He’s the most spooked, unhappy, untrusting man I know. Your coming here hit a nerve.” She sighed. “Well, if you’re gonna corral him, better do it soon. He’s getting ready to bolt.” “What?” “I know the signs. He stays in Tombstone until something brings back the past. He pays me; then he rides out. Oh, he’ll be back. But I imagine you’ll be gone by then.” Sally still felt threatened by this pretty filly. ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ Cort left the saloon feeling restless and unable to concentrate. His heart was galloping so loud, he could hardly think. It was time to go. He had paid Sally that morning. Even though their relationship wasn’t about sex, he felt bad taking up time she could be whoring and earning money. For some reason, he gave her extra money this time. From her room, Sally saw Cort heading for the stables. How long would he be gone this time? She felt lonelier than ever. Cort saddled his horse. He always felt guilty leaving Sally. But her life would return to normal. She was probably glad to see him go. Strangely, that thought hurt him. He shook his head, trying to rid it of all the nonsense lurking inside. “Mr. Wells.” Cort’s chin dropped to his chest. “You have to tell me where John Herod is.”

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“No, Miss Branford, I do not. Now if you’ll excuse me.” “Aren’t you even curious why I want to know?” “No.” “I’m his daughter.” Cort looked at her tear-stained face and then turned away. “You have my sympathy.” “Don’t you understand? We’ve been in hiding for 17 years—all my life.” Cort sighed. “I’ll tell you this much. You don’t have to be afraid of him any longer.” He turned to mount his horse. “Is he dead?” “You can stop hiding.” “But is he dead?” Cort felt the stable walls closing in on him and he had to get out. He put one foot in the stirrup. “Wait!” Cort whirled around, his gun drawn. A woman moved next to Loreen. Cort frowned. “I’m Cecelia Branford.” “I just finished telling your daughter----.” “I heard what you told Loreen.” Her voice was strained and raspy and her face was hidden under a black veil. “Ma’am, I wouldn’t lie to either of you. You can move about freely.” Cecelia was wringing her pale hands. “Do you know who I am?” Cort shook his head. “Herod had any number of women. I’m afraid I don’t recall any of

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them.” “My mother is not a prostitute!” “Loreen, honey, Cort doesn’t remember. I was married to that monster.” Cort recalled that when he first joined the gang, Herod had a small ranch that they used as a hideout. There was talk of Herod’s stunning wife. Cort even caught a glimpse of her blonde head as she got into a buggy one day. A few weeks later, the word was out that she got caught cheating on him. Neither Mrs. Herod nor her lover was ever seen again. “I only know of one wife and she’s dead.” “Oh, he killed Ben---and made me watch.” Her voice trembled. Cort knew she was telling the truth. He had forgotten it was Ben Turner who disappeared until she mentioned the name. “I wasn’t as lucky.” Cort shuddered. Now he understood the veil. Herod’s sadistic revenge would have been better served if his gorgeous wife was repulsive to all males. A few of Herod’s men had been known to slash a whore if she displeased them. It didn’t take much imagination to figure out what had happened. “Ma’am, John Herod is dead. He’s been that way for five years.” “Do you know that for a fact?” “Yes. I shot him.” Cecelia Branford’s small hands fell to her side. “Where is he buried? I want to spit on him the way he spat on me that day.” “I don’t recall much of him left to bury.” “What do you mean?” Cort looked away nervously. They may have had hard lives, but they were still ladies. “The details aren’t pretty.” “Do you think living with him was?” “The town folk brought chairs to the street and watched the buzzards.”

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“Rip him to shreds?” “Yes ma’am.” He could see Loreen wince. “Good. I only wish he had been alive to feel it.” “I don’t know if anyone buried his bones; but if they did, it would be somewhere in Redemption.” Cort turned to his horse; it was definitely time to go. “It’s enough to know he’s dead,” Loreen said softly. “We can finally settle down.” “Thank you,” Cecelia whispered. “Good day, ladies.” He rode out of the stable with a lighter heart. Giving Sally that extra money made him feel the same way. As Cort rode by the saloon, he glanced up at her window; she was standing there watching him. He reined in his horse and stared back. He had always come and gone as he pleased. Sally’s room was a place to stay when he was in Tombstone. He tied his horse up and entered the saloon. As he climbed the stairs, his brain raced. No attachments, no involvement, no relationships. That had been his life. Sally flung open the door; her face was expectant. “Cort?” He stood in the doorway unable to enter or walk away. “Did you forget something?” “I don’t know.” She took his arm and led him inside. “What’s wrong?” “Sally, are you, uh, do you want to stay here?” “You mean in Tombstone? Not forever.” That bothered him. “I could come back one day and you’d be gone.” A feeling he couldn’t describe came over him. He suddenly knew he couldn’t stand it if she weren’t in his life. “But I leave you, don’t I?” “Cort, I know you don’t look at me like other men do. Like I’m some dumb floozie.” She breathed deeply. She had to speak her mind now or she never would. “I’m happy when you come and unhappy when you go. But I reckon you’ll keep coming back. And I wouldn’t leave town without telling you.” He shook his head sadly. It never occurred to him that Sally cared. “I’m sorry.”

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“I didn’t tell you this to hurt you.” She looked away. “I’m only saying something because you do come back.” “Every time that animal comes into my life….” “Herod?” Cort nodded. He took off his duster and sat on the edge of the bed. She sat next to him. “Cort, why do you leave town?” He shrugged. “Something happens that reminds me. Or someone I know rides in town. I feel like I’ll suffocate if I don’t leave. I know it must sound foolish.” “Where do you go?” “Anywhere---until I can stop thinking about the wrong I’ve done.” This time Sally’s heart was pounding. “Why do you come back?” Cort had no idea what to say to her. “Honey, don’t you understand why? You and me have no one but each other. You keep returning to me and I keep waiting for you.” Was it really that simple? That peaceful feeling came over him, like a weight had been removed from his heart. “What do you think of that explanation?” she teased. “It beats anything I can come up with.” He shrugged. “Maybe you’re right.” “What do you suggest we do now?” “I don’t know,” he replied smiling. “You’re the one with all the ideas.” “I say we go to Palmer’s. I’ll buy you a steak dinner. I’m in the mood for a nice slab of beef. Then you can take me for a buggy ride. We’ll get a good night’s sleep and decide what to do tomorrow.” “You came up with all that just now?” he asked incredulously. Sally nodded and put her arm through his. Maybe some day she’d tell him how long she had been rehearsing those words.

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