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Clay pulled up and stared down into her sarcastic glance.
"She's my cook and housekeeper Charlotte." Clay grit his teeth feeling that itch subside a bit. "And she's a nice person. And I like her, okay. Her and her son."
"Is she, and what else?" Charlotte shot him a sarcastic grin.
"I don't think I owe you an explanation Charlotte. Think what you like, you will anyway." Clay turned on her now, admiring her beauty but seeing it didn't go deep enough to suit him.
He put his money on the bar and left.
She heard Charlotte call out, "Squaw man!"
Clay stood still and let the name roll off his shoulders.
But that wasn't the end of his troubles. Haywood Nixon was out in the street and when he saw Clay he bellowed. "Well lookie here, the Injun lover."
Clay ignored him, after all Haywood was drunk. Haywood was a big man, nearly six foot three, with bulging muscles, from cutting timber for the saw mill every day. His dirty blonde hair dripped sweat, his dark eyes penetrated Clay.
When Haywood continued to make an issue of it, Clay turned around to face him, "Leave it alone!"
"Cain't!" Haywood staggered. "I don't cotton to Injun lovers."
"Your drunk Haywood." Clay started to mount his horse when suddenly a whip resounded near his ear, so close that his ear began to bleed.
"I'm gonna wipe this town up with you, Clay. Gotta make an example of you. Someone else might get the same idea as you and go chasin' after injuns." Haywood announced as he slapped his whip to the ground, making the dust fly.
"You want to fight, then put the whip down, and I'll fight you."
"Well, I would fight an ordinary man, but you ain't ordinary. And you sure got this comin'." Haywood yelled and slapped the whip over Clay's shoulder. Fire bit into Clay's skin like a knife.
Where was Judd, the Sheriff? Probably inside the saloon with his favorite girl. And uncaring of Haywood's actions. Who in this town would care? Not many, that was for sure.
People began to gather, with a look of horror, but no one helped, no one dared go against Haywood when he was drunk, not even Judd. Whispers went around, looks of scorn were shooting in his direction.
Clay didn't have time to react as Haywood threw the whip again and slashed his back. Again, fire burned through Clay, as his shirt tore.
Over and over Haywood cracked the whip, hitting Clay on the back several times. His eyes blurred from the intense pain; his mind began to blank. All he could do was try to grab the leather, but Haywood jerked it away too quickly.
When Clay lay in a heap of blood in the dirt, Haywood laughed. "Maybe you'll think twice before you take that Injun into your house again."
Clay got to his feet with a struggle, the fire from the whip ate like acid, but he managed. He mounted his horse and rode off, without a word. He looked at the town people's faces and tipped his hat, then rode off, slowly.
He could barely ride; every movement of his horse brought more pain from the lashes he'd taken. His eyes blurred from the pain. A light sweat broke over him.
Clay rode for a long time in pain and agony and he was only about five miles away from his place when he fell off the horse and to the ground with a thud. The pain knocked him out.
Charlie found him, curled in a knot an hour later, the blood had dried on him.
"My God, son." Charlie hauled him onto his horse and rode with him pulling his own horse behind him.
When he got to the cabin, Willa saw and came out to help.
"What happened?" She cried, with concern in her voice.
"I don't know, he wasn't conscious when I found him." Charlie shook his head and they carried him inside.
"Let's get him in the bed. I will treat him." She said.
When she realized he'd been bull whipped, a tear fell down her cheek. "This is my fault. I have brought this on him."
