by James, Terry
That didn’t seem to occur to Jessie as she moved in behind Matt and flung the bills back at Stone. ‘I’m not for sale. You can take your money.’
‘That ain’t the way it works around here, pretty. You offered the goods, I paid for them. There’s no going back because you see some Fancy Dan you like the look of better ’n me.’ His glare fixed on Matt with a telltale flicker of resentment. ‘If you don’t want to see this kid’s guts splattered in the dirt, you just scoot your butt over here and get ready to finish what we started.’
The words were more for Matt than Jessie, an attempt to rile him into making a mistake that would give either Stone or Jethro, or maybe both, a chance to kill him in an unguarded moment.
‘I didn’t start anything,’ Jessie said, her indignation tangible. ‘But you lay one finger on me and it’ll be your guts splattered in the dirt, mister.’
‘That’ll do, Jessie,’ Matt said, her words piling more weight on his gun hand than he needed. ‘You made your point.’
Surprisingly, Jethro agreed. ‘And you hush up too, Stone, or that mouth of yours is going to get you killed.’ Jethro’s calm seemed to falter. ‘Go get yourself a drink. I’m sure there are plenty of other girls who’ll be happy to spend time with you.’
‘Do you think I’m scared of a kid with a gun?’ Stone yelled. ‘ ’Cause I ain’t.’
‘That’s because, boy, God didn’t give you the sense of a piece of wood. You already proved that once. Next time you might lose more than the tip of an ear. Go inside and have a drink. Let me handle this.’
A gasp rippled through the crowd as those gawkers nearest the front, edged back. Although Stone looked ready to blow, his jaw twitched as he bit down on whatever he wanted to say and glared into a face older but undeniably a mirror image of his own. Despite Jethro’s affable smirk, the animosity crackled between them. Whatever Stone expected, the older man apparently revelled in disappointing him.
A tense few seconds passed before Stone finally spat in the dirt and announced, ‘This ain’t over.’ Without a glance in any direction, he shouldered past Matt and stamped into the saloon, the doors banging long after he yelled for whiskey.
Jethro watched him go, his eyes narrowed, but when he turned his attention back to Matt only amusement showed. ‘I’d like to apologize for my nephew, but I won’t. He’s got his reasons for wanting you dead.’ He tossed another hard glance in the direction of the saloon. ‘Suppose I should have too, seeing as how you killed my brother, but time gives a man plenty of time to think and a pretty girl can give him a hundred reasons not to want to die.’ He turned his strange stare on Jessie. ‘Tell me something, girl, was your mother’s name Marianne?’
She didn’t answer.
Jethro chuckled. ‘I don’t need your answer to know I’m right. You look just like her when she was your age.’ He dismissed her, his odd gaze returning to Matt. ‘She changes things a mite, raises the stakes higher than revenge.’
Matt’s fingers itched to draw his .45. ‘Leave her out of this.’
‘Or what? You’ll kill me?’
Jethro stepped in quickly, two long paces bringing him within striking distance. The unexpected advance caught Matt off-guard and, as he stepped backwards, he collided with Jessie, losing his already tenuous balance. It was all the time Jethro needed and he rammed his fist into Matt’s stomach doubling him over before clenching his hands in a single fist that smashed down hard on Matt’s back and slammed him into the dirt. A final kick in the chest was enough to keep him down, gasping for air.
Jessie threw herself between them. ‘Leave him alone. He’s had enough.’
Matt tried to shove her aside, but she clung to him, shielding him with her body despite Jethro’s raised fist. In a fleeting moment, something seemed to register on Jethro’s face. Surprise? It was hard to tell, but as quickly as he had attacked, he turned on his heel and followed Stone’s tracks to the saloon.
Before he went inside, he hesitated without looking back. ‘Ain’t any doubt in my mind now, Jessica-Rose, that you’re Marianne’s daughter. She was a fighter too, although she didn’t realize it.’
‘Nobody calls me that. How do you know that’s my name?’
He laughed. ‘Tell me, do you love him?’
The question was completely unexpected but Jess didn’t waste a heartbeat thinking about her answer. ‘I do.’
‘Then don’t give up without a fight, will you?’
He pushed inside, and seconds later, someone started playing the piano. Outside on the street, folks moved about their business, some disappointed at the outcome, others relieved. Without the blood and gore of a gunfight, life carried on as before.
But things had changed. Matt felt it in the chill breeze that tickled his neck as he let Jessie help him to his feet. This wasn’t a minor disagreement, some sore loser looking to take back the pot, or even simple revenge. Jethro wanted Matt to know he would take his life and his girl, and probably not in that order. More worrying was the knowledge that for the first time in a long time Matt wasn’t sure he could stop him.
Jessie ducked under his arm, steadying him as he rocked on his feet. ‘Matt, what are you going to do?’
He faltered, grabbing his leg above the knee as it threatened to give way. Damn it. He had thought a couple of day’s rest would be enough, but the weakness was still with him, and Jethro’s unexpected beating hadn’t helped. He wrapped his arm around Jessie’s shoulders, avoiding her tide of questions as he limped to the hotel. What could he say anyway? That all he wanted to do was throw her on a horse, mount up and ride away someplace where no one would find them?
Was that what he wanted, to run for the rest of his life?
CHAPTER 4
Heads turned as they crossed the street, the faces showing a mixture of sympathy and contempt. Nothing that had happened had been his fault, but that didn’t make him less responsible in the minds of the townsfolk. All they saw was the gun and the fancy clothes. Their imaginations filled in the rest, including God only knew what filthy notions about him and Jessie. Just the idea of it bothered him. He had never thought about anything except keeping her safe, but now he realized there was more to it than finding her a home and being a friend.
Matt doubted Jessie even noticed. When they reached the hotel, a quick assurance to Lou that he would explain everything later was all he could manage before she dragged him upstairs to his room. When she sat beside him on the bed, her tight-lipped silence worried him more than the prospect of a showdown with Jethro Davies. Despite the weakness in his legs, he left her and went to look out of the window.
‘That was a foolish thing you did, mouthing off at Stone Davies and then throwing yourself between Jethro and me. You could have been hurt.’ More than ever he believed that he wasn’t the marrying kind and he steeled himself against sentimentality. ‘It can’t happen again.’
‘I’m sorry. I couldn’t just stand there and—’
‘I know and that’s why it’s not safe for you to be around me. I’m going to ask Lou to send you away for a while.’
‘I won’t go.’
‘You won’t go?’ he asked, genuinely surprised that she would argue with him.
‘No. I’m as safe here as I am anywhere. You’ll protect me like you always have.’
‘Things are different. These men, they’ve waited a long time to catch up with me.’
‘Do you think I don’t know that?’
Did she? Had she somehow made the connection between Stone and Jethro and the man who murdered her grandfather? No. She believed that man had been a nameless drifter. Matt couldn’t bring himself to ask the question. She never talked about what happened and her nightmares had all but stopped the past couple of years. He wouldn’t do anything to rekindle them now.
‘The fact is, being around me’s dangerous and whatever happens to me, I don’t want you getting hurt.’
‘I know that, but we’ve been in trouble before, like that night you found me when my grandpa
was killed.’
‘This time it’s different.’
‘So you keep saying. And I’ll say it again: do you think I don’t know that? That it makes a difference to me?’
Matt had never realized it before, but given the chance, she would walk beside him no matter what. And she could be unnervingly quick and quiet when she chose to be. Spinning around to face her, he reeled as she wrapped her arms around him, the lilac scent in her hair offering a secondary attack he hadn’t been expecting.
‘Stop it, Jessie. You won’t change my mind. I want you gone from here in the morning.’
Tears welled in her eyes but there was no surrender. ‘You don’t have to fight them. You could leave with me.’
He shook his head and turned his back on her, but she grabbed his arm, refusing to let his stubborn silence deter her. ‘Let go of the past, Matt. Ethan Davies is dead, but we’re still alive.’
That rocked him. The truth weighed him down physically and mentally and allowed his mind to snap back to a night he had tried to forget. It had been a while since he had thought about it. Ethan Davies had gone to Jessie’s home, thirsty for blood. An evil man who tortured and murdered, leaving nothing and no one untouched. The images were still clear, even if the pain had dulled. In his mind’s eye, Matt could still see her grandpa dying on the floor in a pool of blood. He remembered the fear that had turned her to stone when the devil with the red hair and the piercing eyes had found her hiding behind a chair.
She had cowered like a dog, begging him not to hurt her. Beyond the image of terror and pain, he could still see the hope that the sight of him had given her. That’s when Matt had done the first decent thing of his whole short life. Just a skinny kid with barely a whisker on his chin, holding a gun in his hand that wobbled, he had stepped out of the shadows.
‘Let her go, you son-of-a-bitch.’
His voice had been loud and sharp, full of fear, not fully a man’s, but the gun never left its target. As Ethan turned around, snatching for his gun, Matt fired and threw himself to the side the way he had seen gunfighters do. Ethan tried to fire as he staggered backwards, but already blood soaked his stomach, the pain doubling him over. For several seconds, he didn’t move. Pain or shock rendered him speechless. His eyes widened, then rolled. Like a giant oak, he tumbled, getting off a single shot that nicked Matt’s thigh, throwing him further off balance as he fumbled the hammer and squeezed the trigger again and again. …
The present returned with a warm hand on his cheek. Slowly, familiar features merged into focus. The sights and sounds of a past best forgotten, cleared from his mind. Looking about, he welcomed the familiarity of everything around him from the freshly papered walls to the polished wooden floor, the bed, the dresser and finally the long mirror that mocked him with its stark reflection of a foolish boy.
‘Did you hear what I said?’ Jess asked, shaking him slightly. ‘Let’s forget Stone and Jethro and just run like we did before.’
As much as he had toyed with that idea on the way back to the hotel, he knew it couldn’t happen. All it proved was how much she loved him, what she would do to be with him. It was woman’s thinking, a final attempt to reason with his heart instead of his head.
‘You heard what they said. They want me dead and God only knows what they’d do to you. Wherever we go they might find us.’ He turned again to the window, twitching the curtain to see out into the darkening street. ‘It’s time to stop running and put an end to the past for good.’
‘Then let me help you. I brought this trouble down on you and I should share some of the responsibility for ending it.’
He looked at her sideways, wondering which trouble she meant, past or present. As always he discarded his memories of the past and planted himself firmly in the present. ‘I killed his brother and he wants revenge for that. What happened today has nothing to do with that outcome. All it proved is that it’s time for you to forget your ideas about me and get on with your own life, a new life without me in it.’
‘I don’t want a new life. I want the life I have with you in it. Why are you already talking like a dead man? Do you think getting yourself killed is going to save me?’ Unexpectedly, she thumped him on the back, drawing an involuntary gasp as a spasm of pain coursed along his spine and sent pins and needles racing along his leg. ‘Quit talking to me like I’m a child, Matt, and look at yourself. You’re not well yet. You’ve lost weight, you can barely stand without something to lean on, and you look like you haven’t slept in a month. You’re the one who’s not thinking straight.’
Running a hand through his hair was something he did when he was nervous and he hated himself as he did it now and turned to face her. Even so, a chuckle curved his mouth into a half smile. She had given him an advantage and he was about to use it.
‘You’re right. I’m not the man I was, but it’s got nothing to do with the bullet lodged in my back or the lack of a good night’s sleep. It’s you. When I’m near you, I can’t think straight. You twist me around until I don’t know which direction I’m facing. Do you think Jethro Davies is going to care about any of that when he calls me out to kill me?’
Their argument had reached a crescendo and now it crashed around them and lay in ruins. They stood a couple of feet apart and yet a hundred miles might as well have separated them. Matt had played his hand and gone all-in, knowing she wouldn’t bet against his life, but there was no satisfaction in the win as a grim chuckle admitted her defeat.
‘You’re a shrewd gambler, Matt. I should have known I’d never win against you in a fair fight. But this isn’t a fair fight because there’s something you don’t know that might just save your life.’
He raised a curious eyebrow despite his determination not to fuel her argument.
‘Do you know how he knew my mother’s name? How he knew mine?’
Matt hadn’t given it much thought and he didn’t now. ‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘It does, because it means we have something to bargain with.’
‘There’s no bargaining with men like Jethro Davies.’
A knock at the door silenced any argument she might have offered.
‘Matt. They’re calling for you over at the Nugget.’ It was Lou. ‘The game starts in ten minutes, with or without you. My five thousand dollars says it’d be better with.’
‘Surely you aren’t going after what happened,’ she whispered, worry once again replacing the anger that had slowly replaced it. ‘You need to see the doctor.’
He shook his head and whispered, ‘I can’t let Lou down.’ Then shouted, ‘I’ll be there.’
‘Good boy. I’m counting on you to win me some money. And another thing: if you keep my ward in there any longer, there’ll be a shotgun waiting for you when you come out.’
As Lou’s footsteps faded, Matt straightened his vest and reached for his coat. Jessie took it from him, holding it while he slipped into it, then refusing to let go until he faced her.
‘I know you mean well, Jessie, but you need to stay out of this. What happened in the past was my doing.’ He wiped a tear from her cheek. ‘And if I had it to do again, I would. We both know the way it is between us, the way it’s always been, but what good’s the truth now?’
She reached up and smoothed back an unruly lock of his hair. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t squirm under her scrutiny. Hesitantly, she traced his profile with her fingertips, as if memorizing the roughness of his cheek, his straight nose, the slight cleft in his chin and finally the narrow line of his lips.
Her hand trembled, mimicking the pleasure and pain that suddenly churned his insides. He hated to see her anguish and know he was the cause of it, but it wasn’t in him to give her false hope. Crushed by her emotions, she wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him, her heart full of hurt she didn’t want to hide, but he couldn’t reciprocate and he pushed her to arm’s length, keeping his voice low and steady.
‘I know you don’t understand, Jess. You believe in
heroes and happy-ever-afters but you deserve more than I can give you. You know that, don’t you?’
She shook her head stubbornly, but there were no tears now. Only ice showed in the blue depths of her eyes, a coldness he had never seen before, and didn’t like. It inclined him to say more than he intended.
‘Listen to me. You said it yourself. I’m a drifter. A gambler. A gunman. I go where the wind takes me. I always play the hand I’m dealt … and one day I’ll meet somebody who shoots better than I do. Maybe today I already did.’
‘I know all that.’ Her tone was as cold as the ice behind her eyes.
‘Then stop fighting me.’
She brushed his coat where tears had formed a damp patch on his shoulder, then shoved him towards the door. Pulling it open, she pushed him into the hallway. ‘Don’t ask me to give up my dreams, Matt. I can’t do that, even for you. You go and play the hand you’re dealt, and I’ll play mine, maybe somehow we’ll end up in the same game.’
CHAPTER 5
Jessie didn’t feel much like talking to anyone after Matt left. Certainly she couldn’t face Lou after what had happened outside the saloon. Grudgingly she admitted that Matt was right about one thing: she shouldn’t have been there. She had let herself and Lou down, standing there like a floozy outside a place like that. But she had wanted Matt to notice her, to prove to him that she was ready to join him in his world. All she had proved was that she had no idea what living in his world really meant. She wasn’t even sure she could after the way he drew iron on Stone Davies. That was the first time since Ethan Davies’s death that she’d seen him draw his gun in anger. She hoped it was the last, but somehow she doubted it.
Stepping away from the open window where the night had started to draw a veil over the street below, she looked around Matt’s room. For the first time, she really saw it and realized it was like any other in the hotel. There was nothing in it to show who it belonged to. Not even a small memento or photograph placed fondly on the table beside the bed. Absentmindedly she opened the dresser drawers and the narrow armoire. Empty. Maybe she had been lying to herself all along. He had never intended to stay for her, and yet he refused to leave now that his life depended on it.