Wanted: A Western Story Collection

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Wanted: A Western Story Collection Page 10

by Robert J. Thomas


  “What? You don’t think you could take him?”

  “He’s taken down some mighty big names in our business.”

  “Like who for instance?”

  “Nevada Jackson and his brother, along with Clay Finch out of Montana, just to name a few.”

  “He took down Clay Finch? I don’t believe it. What’d he do, back shoot him?”

  “No, he faced him fair and beat him to the draw. I know because I was there and saw it with my own eyes.”

  “Well, it don’t matter none ‘cause we ain’t wanted,” grunted Blair.

  “We’d better get back and tell the boss he’s in town,” said Reid as he put some money on the table and stood up. Blair took one last bite of the meatloaf and chewed it as he stood up to leave. They walked close by Jess’s table.

  “Hello, Reid. Kill anybody lately?” Jess asked him quietly without looking up from his coffee.

  “Williams, what brings you to Pelston?”

  “Tray Hansard,” he said, still not looking up at the two, although he saw that both of the hammers on their pistols were still strapped down tight. Blair and Reid exchanged knowing glances.

  “That’s who was killed earlier?” asked Reid.

  “Yeah, did you know him?” Jess’s head slowly rose and tilted to the side.

  “Not exactly. He was coming to work for our boss.”

  “Who is your boss?”

  “We don’t have to answer your questions,” scoffed Blair.

  “I didn’t say you did.”

  “It’s not important anyway. We work for Horrace Malvern, a cattle rancher.”

  Jess smiled at them. “Now, why would a cattle rancher need one of the best hired gunnies around?”

  Blair started to say something, but Reid stopped him with a harsh look.

  “He’s had some trouble with rustlers,” said Reid.

  “He could hire ten men to do that for what he’s probably paying you,” argued Jess. “All they have to do is catch them in the act and string them up, right?”

  “Listen, Mister, we don’t have to answer your questions,” barked Blair with a cross look on his face as he moved his hand down to the butt of his pistol, placing his thumb on the leather thong that held it in the holster. Jess looked him directly in the eyes and pursed his lips tightly.

  “If you thumb that off, you’d better reach for it,” he warned him. Reid placed his left hand on Blair’s right hand.

  “He ain’t reaching for it,” Reid said as he glared at Blair. “He’s just a bit edgy.”

  “That can be dangerous,” Jess told him as he brought the twelve-gauge short shotgun up and placed it on the table, with his left hand still on the butt stock, his fingers on the triggers. Blair’s eyes widened at the sight of the shotgun and his hand moved away from his pistol.

  “You’ve got a lot of nerve, Mister,” said Blair as the corner of his mouth twitched nervously just before a rifle shot rang out. The slug sizzled between Blair’s and Reid’s heads, slamming into the wall above Jess’s head. Jess pulled his other cut-down shotgun out and quickly stood up with one in each hand now.

  “Give me that!” hollered the waiter as he wrestled a Winchester rifle from a young boy who looked to be ten years old.

  “They killed some more of our sheep today!” wailed the boy. The waiter finally wrenched the rifle from the boy’s hands and held it up in the air too high for him to reach it.

  “That doesn’t mean you can come in here and shoot at people,” the waiter scolded him.

  “Give me my rifle back,” he begged.

  Blair moved toward the boy and used his foot to shove him to the floor. He slid two feet before his head hit the wall, stopping him.

  “You little shit,” growled Blair. “You nearly took my head off with that thing.”

  The boy felt his head for any blood, but all he felt was a lump that was growing fast. “I’m only sorry I missed,” he said combatively.

  Blair started to reach down to grab the boy when Jess stopped him.

  “You’d best leave the boy alone,” he said firmly. Blair whipped around with angry eyes.

  “He needs a good thrashing.”

  “Maybe, maybe not, but you’re not the one who’s going to give it to him.”

  “And why not?”

  “Because you’d take too much pleasure in doing so.” Blair took another step toward Jess, but Reid put his hand on his shoulder.

  “Come on, partner,” he said. “Let’s get back to the ranch.”

  Blair and Jess exchanged a prolonged stare before Blair spun around and stormed out. Jess tucked his two short shotguns into the back of his holster and frowned at the boy, who was sitting up now and rubbing the top of his head. He looked up at Jess with a blank look.

  “What’s your name, son?” Jess asked him. The waiter, who was still standing there holding the rifle, answered as he gave the boy a stern look.

  “His name is Gabriel Roddy and he’s nothing but trouble,” he told Jess.

  “I ain’t no trouble,” refuted the boy in a whiny voice. Jess turned sideways and stuck his finger in the bullet hole in the wall behind him.

  “No trouble? If I had been standing, you’d have shot me dead center in the chest.” The boy finally got to his feet and brushed his shirt off.

  “I wasn’t aiming at you.”

  “I don’t think you were aiming at anyone.”

  “I missed is all.”

  “I’m quite aware of that,” Jess said, pointing to the hole again.

  “Give me my rifle back,” Gabriel demanded of the waiter, who still held it away from him.

  “Tell your father to come to town and get it,” he said. Jess looked the boy over. He was wearing a tattered brown shirt, brown denims with some holes in them and no shoes on his feet. Jess smiled at the waiter and waved to him.

  “Give me his rifle,” he told him.

  “But you’re not his father.”

  “Obviously not, but give me the rifle anyway.”

  “You taking responsibility for the boy?”

  “Temporarily,” he replied. The waiter walked over and handed it to him. He went to unload it and when he racked the lever, a single spent shell fell out and onto the table. He looked at Gabriel, who looked down at his bare feet.

  “I only had one bullet,” he admitted shyly.

  “And what were you planning on doing after you missed with the only shot you had?”

  “Run as fast as I could,” he replied. Jess shook his head, leaned the rifle against an empty chair and sat down. Gabriel watched him through narrow untrusting eyes.

  “Well, you missed and didn’t run very fast,” Jess replied, while considering what to do.

  “Are you hungry?” Jess asked him.

  “I ain’t got no money.”

  “Did I ask you that?”

  “No, but you need money to pay for food in here, especially with the prices being so high,” he said as he looked directly at the waiter. The waiter huffed and walked away. Gabriel looked back at Jess.

  “You offering to buy me food?”

  “Anything on the menu you want.”

  “What if I want a steak?”

  “You can have it.”

  “Two steaks?”

  “Yes.”

  “How about three steaks?”

  “Why would a boy barely a hundred pounds need three steaks?”

  “The other two are for my ma and pa.”

  “Fine, three steaks it is,” Jess told him as he used his boot to kick a chair out across from him. Gabriel slowly walked toward the table and sat down.

  “You sure you have enough money?”

  “I’m pretty sure,” he said as he waved to the waitress, who came running over.

  Chapter three

  Gabriel ate a thick steak with carrots and potatoes. He polished off a couple pieces of blueberry pie and two large glasses of milk. When he finished, he burped loudly, which garnered him the looks of every woman in the place. He i
gnored them for the most part, but he stuck his tongue out at one older woman, who huffed and stuck her nose in the air.

  “You sure have a charming personality,” Jess told him as he finished his coffee.

  “That old biddy is married to a cattle lover.”

  “You don’t like cattle?”

  “My pa runs a sheep ranch. Everyone else in this town either raises cattle or works for someone who does. They don’t like my pa and that’s why they keep killing our sheep.”

  “There’s been a lot of fighting between sheep herders and cattle ranchers in Texas. Some men have even been killed over it.”

  “We have just as much right to use public grazing land as they do. My pa told me as much.”

  “I realize that, but it looks like you’re up against some pretty good hired gunnies. Shade Reid is well known for hiring his gun out and for good reason. He’s quick with a pistol and he’s killed at least a half dozen men that I know of. Taking a shot at him and his pal wasn’t the smartest thing to do.”

  “Well, someone has gotta do something. They keep killing our sheep. We can’t afford to keep losing them.”

  “You said they killed some more?”

  “I found a dozen more this morning over by where Mr. Malvern grazes his cattle by the lake.”

  “Can you show me?”

  “Why? They’re dead,” he said excitedly. “You can’t even eat them now.”

  “I’d just like to see for myself.”

  “All right, but I gotta get these steaks home before they go bad,” he said as he grabbed the steaks wrapped in a white cloth sitting on the table. Jess stood up and started to hand the rifle to Gabriel when Sheriff Burke walked in. He shook his head and gave Gabriel a look of admonishment.

  “Did I hear it right? You tried to kill one of Mr. Malvern’s men?” he demanded.

  “I surely did,” admitted Gabriel. “They killed more of our sheep this morning.”

  “I should lock you up in my jail.”

  “I’m only ten. I got rights you know,” wailed Gabriel.

  “Well one of them ain’t walking in here and blasting a rifle at someone’s head.”

  “Someone’s gotta do something. You won’t and you know it. Those cattle ranchers pay for your salary.”

  “Listen here, you whippersnapper…” Jess cut him off by holding his hand up.

  “Sheriff, I’ll take him back to his pa and have a chat with him,” he told Burke.

  “Well talk some sense into him while you’re there. He needs to stop infringing on the grazing lands that Mr. Malvern has been using twenty years before they even showed up.”

  “Sheriff, I’m not taking sides, but you know as well as I do that public land is for anyone to use, even sheep herders.”

  “Yeah, I know there is private land and public land, and cattle and sheep, and some men have guns and some men don’t. Get my meaning?”

  “I think I do,” Jess told him with a knowing expression on his face. Burke dug into his back pocket and handed him an envelope of large bills.

  “There’s the bounty on Hansard. I suppose you’ll be moving on soon?”

  “Is that a question or a request?”

  Burke looked at the floor and sighed. “Just an inquiry,” he muttered.

  Jess grabbed Gabriel by the collar and pushed him out of the café and into the street.

  “Let go of me,” the boy said. Jess let go of his collar and handed him the rifle back.

  “Ain’t no good with no bullets in it,” Gabriel mumbled.

  “You could throw it at someone. You might have a better chance of hitting your target.”

  “That’s not funny.”

  “I’m not laughing.”

  “Did you really get paid all that money?”

  Jess looked in the envelope. “Yep.”

  “For killing one man?”

  “Well, he was a real bad man.”

  “Maybe that’s what I should do then, since herding sheep don’t pay squat,” he said as he kicked at the dirt with his bare feet.

  “Don’t you have any shoes or boots?”

  “I got one pair, but my ma don’t let me wear them except for going to church on Sundays,” he said as he looked up at him expectantly. “You just got paid, so you wanna buy me some boots?”

  “So, you’re not only a mischief maker, but now you’re a beggar?”

  “Hey, it’s the least you can do after interfering in my private affairs.” Jess stopped walking and looked down at him curiously.

  “Are you sure you’re only ten years old?”

  Gabriel shrugged his shoulders and made a funny face. “Why would I lie about how old I am?”

  Jess looked over at the general store. “Okay, let’s go to the store,” he told him as he turned him around to face the big, red, two-story building.

  A half hour later, Gabriel walked out wearing a new pair of boots, pants, shirt and a brown bowler hat. He carried his old clothes in a bag. He looked down admiring his new boots.

  “These are really nice,” he said smiling. “But how come I couldn’t get the string tie?”

  “You needed boots and clothes, not a string tie,” Jess told him as they headed for the livery.

  “You gonna buy me a horse next?”

  “You’re a pushy little shit,” Jess told him.

  “You shouldn’t swear.”

  “And you’re not getting a horse.”

  “Damn it,” he muttered.

  “And you stop swearing,” said Jess as he slapped him on the back of his head.

  “Hey, you can’t do that,” he whined.

  “Why not?”

  “Because you’re not my father.”

  “Which is exactly why I’m not buying you a horse.”

  “Aw crap,” he muttered. They entered the livery and Jess began tightening the cinch straps on Gray and Sharps. Gabriel walked in front of Gray and rubbed his forehead.

  “Wow, these are really nice horses,” he said excitedly. Gray pushed him gently with his muzzle and snorted.

  “That’s Gray and this is Sharps,” Jess told him. “You can ride Sharps.”

  “I’ve never ridden a horse before.”

  “Really, never?”

  “Nope.”

  “You’re in luck then because Sharps will follow Gray wherever he goes so all you have to do is hold onto the saddle horn. Here, let me help you up.”

  Jess helped him up in the saddle and adjusted the stirrups to fit him. Then he climbed up on Gray and rode out of the livery until they reached the end of the street. Gabriel pointed in the direction he had found the dead sheep earlier and Jess led the way at a slow gallop, not wanting Gabriel to fall off. The boy rode holding his rifle in his right hand, his left on the saddle horn and his bag of old clothes tied to the saddle. When they got close, Gabriel hollered out.

  “Right over there by those boulders.”

  Jess rode toward them. He reined Gray to a halt and Sharps dug in his hooves. Gabriel was caught totally off guard and almost pitched forward off the saddle. Jess jumped off Gray and quickly moved over to him.

  “Sorry I should have warned you about that,” he told Gabriel.

  “Does he always stop like that?”

  “Yep,” he said as he hoisted him out of the saddle and onto the ground. Gabriel ran over to the area and started walking around.

  “They’re gone,” he moaned. “I swear, there were a dozen sheep on the ground dead.”

  “I believe you.”

  “You do?”

  “Yeah, look at the blood on your boots.” Gabriel looked down.

  “These are brand new,” he complained as he pulled at some grass and tried to wipe them clean. Jess looked around and saw twelve bloody spots. He saw bloody footprints in the grass and a dozen streaks of blood going away from the area.

  “Looks like whoever did it, tied ropes to the sheep and dragged them off that way,” he told Gabriel, who looked up from cleaning his boots.

  “M
r. Malvern has a line shack about five miles in that direction,” he said. “Let’s ride to it and see if we find my sheep.”

  “I think it’s best that I get you home,” Jess told him as he helped him back up in the saddle.

  “But you can see where they dragged them through the grass.”

  “I know, but I’m not taking you to the line shack,” he said firmly. “Who knows how many men they have there.”

  “Give me some bullets for my rifle and I’ll go,” he pleaded.

  “I said no.”

  “I’ll just go myself,” he said defiantly as he heeled Sharps in the flanks. Sharps snorted and shook his head. Jess folded his arms, leaned against Gray and watched Gabriel attempt to get Sharps to move a second time.

  “Dang it horse, get moving,” the boy said as he heeled Sharps a third time. Sharps turned his head sideways and looked at Gabriel.

  “You don’t look like you’re having any luck,” Jess told him grinning.

  “What’s wrong with this horse?”

  “Not a thing,” he told him as he climbed up on Gray. “Which way to your place?”

  “Straight that way,” he said pointing and sighing loudly. Jess turned his horse around and put Gray into a moderate gallop with Sharps following right behind him.

  Back on a small rise in the landscape, Reid folded the spyglass and stood up. He looked at Blair worriedly.

  “I don’t know what in tarnation Williams is up to, but I don’t like it one bit,” he told Blair. “We’d better get back to the ranch.” They headed down the rise toward their horses. Blair was feeling agitated and jumpy, but Reid felt a cold shiver crawl up his spine.

  Chapter four

  Jess and Gabriel arrived at the sod house in the late afternoon. Gabriel’s parents, Buster and Lida Roddy were standing outside the front door, both with their arms crossed and angry looks plastered on their faces.

  “Where have you been and who is this man with you?” demanded Buster.

  “I went to work the eastern area this morning and found a dozen more sheep shot to death,” he explained excitedly. “I got so mad, I walked to town and…well…I tried to shoot Shade Reid.”

 

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