Chapter 1 The Dentons

Randal Denton had seen it all; born just before the Great Depression, was in both France and Germany during the Second World War, saw the end of that, returned home to become what was thought to be a long career in baseball until the reason for his Purple Heart caught up with him, to now…slumming from city to city all the while having to prove that he wasn't a damned Communist.  His current residence was where ever his backpack landed when his feet and eyelids got too heavy to be of any service to him. Homeless, by choice,  and just looking for a new place to hole up where folk would leave him alone; Randal was somewhere in the Midwestern states, last time he'd checked his map. Funny thing, though, he didn't have a map on him.
His lunch was being served by a nice looking gal in a building that looked like one of those rocketships people were always putting into movies. Too shiny and chrome, a service man knew what color rocketships should be, GI Green. He thanked the waitress with a nod and set about eating his healthy portion of burgers, fries, and a milkshake. He usually stuck to the back of places like this instead of hitching up at the bar. People knew his face well enough to guess who he was. Randal didn't want any attention; due or undue. Of course, not many people have a cousin named Clive Denton either. Why bring him up? Well, only one person ever poked him where the grenade flayed his back open with any measure of accuracy. Then the voice rang out, "Ran, what in the name of God are you doing here?"
The younger Denton easily plopped down in the stool beside the older. One of them was wearing very nice dress clothes with a very fitting mod jacket; the other was wearing much simpler dress. Ran looked at his beloved cousin, "Last I checked, it ain't Sunday. Why are you dressed so pretty?" Clive laughed.
"Well, one of us wrote a book and therefore, that one of us has to look presentable for the public eye. People tend to take notice of your last bath when they lean in for an autograph these days," said Clive as he pulled a menu from its holder. Ran grunted approval.  "Miss, oh miss, I'll have what he's having," chanted Clive. He looked at his cousin. "Wondering how I found you?"
"Not expressly, you were a scout during the war and you're currently a very successful US Marshal," the younger now grunted approval, "My concern doesn't lie in how you found me, more as to why."
"Well, we're family. Family's always got to stick together. And I've been doing research while I was looking for you," Clive picked up Ran's milkshake, "May I?"
"Like me saying no would do anything," they both shared a smile as the waitress brought Clive his calories and sugar on a platter.
"Much obliged, ma'am." The girl gave Clive a long look.
"Do I know you from somewhere? Your voice and face are a might familiar." Ran ducked his head. The show was about to begin.
"Well, I suppose you might. My name's Denton. Mister Clive Denton. Two Purple Hearts in the line of duty and rambunctious law man chasing down all manner of nasty men." The waitress' eyes lit up.
"Yeah, yeah! My pop's read your book over a hundred times!" Clive reached into his pocket and put his marshal's badge on.
"Well, don't let me take all the credit now. My dear cousin Randal Denton is here to. And let me just say that if he wasn't around, neither would I," Clive hugged up his cousin who was trying to scoot away from the sideshow attraction. "Man saved me more times than I care to number. But I suppose you knew that from listening to me or reading my book."
"Well sir," the girl started, "I've never read your book." Clive leaned back in his stool.
"Never read…well, we simply must see to that," he reached into his jacket and produced one of his books along with a pen. He cracked it open to the first page, "Now miss…"
"Stella, Stella Armstrong," the girl gushed. Her cheeks were all manner of red. Ran was more of an olive green. The attention was getting to him.
"Such a pretty name for a pretty girl. Alright, Miss Stella Armstrong," Clive said her name as he wrote it out along with some script below it calling her the most beautiful flower in the field, "You read this book and know that you served two of America's finest today in your little shop." He handed the book to her with a smile; she squealed thanks and ran into the back. Clive looked over at Ran, who'd preoccupied himself with staring holes through his cousin. "What?"
"Is this your idea of help?"
"No, no; not at all. But it does prove the point that I was about to make." Ran raised an eyebrow to this statement. "My dear cousin, you have shell shock. Too much stress or attention and you start getting sick as the day is long. I mean, look at the state of you. You've got sweat nearly seeping out of your shirt." Ran nodded as he slurped his milkshake.
"If that were the case, why didn't I do this while playing baseball, Professor Fraud?"
"It's Freud, actually. And I think that was your escape. Hell, we all played ball during the war. It got our minds off things, and I think that's what you need now. Not this."
"Good to know that between shooting lawbreakers and getting shot by them, you're attending night school."
Clive chuckled at the snide remark, "Look, I need a break from this damned book tour and you…you need a break from life. There's a nice little town my agent told me about, just an hour from here. You and me, just a couple of days to unwind and not worry about anything except how pretty will the girl bringing my beer be this time. Come on, we need this."
Ran frowned, not out of anger, but because that silver tongued devil he called family was right. "You think maybe things would be easier on me if maybe 'Cile hadn't…"
"Lucile was a bitch. She loved your fame and money, not you. Be glad she's gone. She did, however, have miraculous tits." Ran looked up from his food with a smile.
"Ha, yeah. She did, didn't she," The elder Denton was quiet for a moment, "God, but to hear her complain was like nails on a chalk board." The two cousins, the two friends started poking fun of Ran's ex-wife in shrill tones as they finished their food.
Twenty minutes later, they were on the road for New Haven, Texas.