Lone Jack Kid: The Return: A Western Adventure (Western Fiction, by Joe Corso Book 2) (The Lone Jack Kid)

by Joe Corso

  Cora was a very pretty woman, twenty-three years old with a shapely figure. All the men noticed her figure but they kept their distance. She was a respectable lady who ran a respectable business. She wouldn’t brook any nonsense from her male customers, and they knew it. But there was something about the stranger that she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

  “Can I help you, stranger?”

  Charlie tipped his hat respectfully and smiled. The whole room lit up, such was the genuine radiance of his smile, and for a brief moment it took her breath away.

  “I hear you serv e the best breakfast in town and I’d like to see if that rumor is true.”

  The tension left Cora and she smiled back. “It’s true all right and it’s no rumor—it’s a fact. Follow me, stranger, and I’ll get you a table. You decide for yourself.” Cora led Charlie to a table in the center of the room, but instead of sitting down he hesitated.

  “Excuse me, miss, but instead of this table could I have that one over there by the wall?”

  Cora was confused for a moment. What was wrong with this table? But if the stranger wanted that table then he would have it.

  “Sure.” She led him to the table and handed him a menu. “If you need anything or have any questions I’m here to help you.”

  Charlie watched as she turned and walked toward the kitchen. He couldn’t help admiring her swaying figure. A few minutes later she returned with a cup of coffee and took his order. Charlie ordered four eggs, bacon, and a stack of pancakes, with a good helping of maple syrup.

  “My but you must be hungry.”

  “Yeah, it’s been a while since I had a good home-cooked meal.”

  She noticed that he positioned himself with his back to the wall—and then she realized why he wanted this table. He could see who came in. While he was talking to her, his eyes never left the door.

  “Are you staying here in town long, stranger?”

  Charlie could be charming when he wanted to and he wanted to be charming now. He smiled again and told her he was just passing through.

  “Why don’t you remain in town a few days? You could freshen up then see the town and get to know the people. This is a nice town with nice people. There’s a lot to see in Kansas City. We even have an opera house.”

  When Cory walked back into the kitchen she remained by the door and watched the stranger. Even as he ate his breakfast he never took his eyes off the front door. Strange, she thought, but put it out of her mind. A stranger’s idiosyncrasies were none of her business.

  It was when he got up to pay his bill that she noticed both holsters, the tied down holster and the cross draw holster sitting low on his side. Most men didn’t tie their holsters down. It was the gunfighters who did that.

  After the stranger left, curiosity got the better of Cora and she left her store and walked across the street to the post office to speak with Seth.

  “Seth, a stranger came in here about twenty minutes ago. I’d like to know who he was.”

  Seth’s face reddened, remembering the warning the Kid gave him. He was determined to keep his promise and not mention his name. “I’m sorry, Cora, but I don’t know his name.”

  “What do you mean you don’t know his name? How could you send his mail out without knowing his name? Surely he had his name of the envelope. Didn’t he?”

  Seth looked down and shook his head. “He didn’t mail an envelope, it was a package.”

  “Well, go and look at the name on the package. I want to know who this man is.”

  Seth liked Cora and he felt bad refusing to help her, but he had made the Kid a promise and he was determined not to break it. “Sorry, Cora, I can’t help you.”

  Cora crossed her arms and was about to say something but changed her mind. Instead she took another approach. “If you won’t tell me his name, maybe you could tell me who he sent the package to.”

  Seth thought a moment. He had promised Longstreet not to tell anyone his name, so if he told Cora who he sent the package to he wouldn’t technically be breaking his promise. “He sent the package to his brother in Silver City.”

  Cora nodded. “Go on. What’s his brother’s name?”

  A voice from behind her broke the tension. “His name is Robert Longstreet.”

  Cora spun around and found herself facing the stranger.

  “I have a habit of waiting a few minutes when I leave a place to see if anyone follows me out. I spotted you crossing the street and followed you in here. Why do you want to know my name?”

  Cora’s face turned crimson.

  Charlie looked at Seth. “You kept your word to me and I appreciate it.” He looked back at Cora. “Now, if you don’t have any other questions, I’ll be leaving.”

  Cora put her chin up defiantly. “What did you say your brother’s name was?”

  Charlie let his breath out slowly. He was becoming exasperated with this pretty but nosy woman. “My brother’s name is Robert Longstreet.”

  Seth looked at her expectantly. She would remember reading about the Lone Jack Kid and put the name in context. Charlie knew it too.

  “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention me or my brother’s name while I’m in town.” Then he walked out, brushing past a customer on the way.

  Cora’s eyes widened in recognition of the Longstreet name. “Holy mackerel,” she blurted out, “that’s the Lone Jack Kid that just walked out of here.”

  The customer’s eyes lit up and he ran out the door as if he were on fire. Cora realized her mistake. “Now I went and did it. Every gunfighter in town will want to kill that man, and it will be my fault. Seth, we have to warn him. Did he tell you where he was going?”

  Seth nodded. “Said he needed to buy supplies for the trail. I told him to go to Ned’s place. That’s probably where he’s heading.”

  Cora flew out the door and ran down the street, leaving the pedestrians on the wooden sidewalks questioning her behavior. She spotted Charlie on his black horse, loping slowly down the wide, dusty street.

  “Excuse me. You on the horse, wait a minute. I have to talk to you.”

  Charlie turned to see who it was and was surprised to see Cora running toward him. He turned his horse as she approached and leaned over with one hand on the pommel. “What’s wrong, missy?”

  “I did something rather foolish. I remembered your name and without thinking I blurted out in front of a customer that you were the Lone Jack Kid. He lit out of the store like his pants were on fire. I’m sorry! I thought you’d better know.”

  Charlie’s smile vanished. “Now you know why I didn’t want anyone to know who I was.” He looked at her angrily. “You know that curiosity killed the cat. I just hope your meddling doesn’t get me killed.” With that he turned Sable and headed at a trot towards the sign with “Ned’s Convenience Store” in large letters.

  Cora felt terrible. She hadn’t intended any of this to happen. She hadn’t intended to blurt out his name. Now what was she going to do?

  Chapter 3

  Charlie entered the store and noticed a man standing on a short ladder, placing items on a shelf. “Excuse me, are you Ned?”

  “Yeah that’s me. Who wants to know?”

  “Seth over at the post office sent me here. Said I could buy some items to take with me on the trail.”

  Ned was a short, thin, balding man with thin lips that looked as though they’d hurt if he talked, so he didn’t say much and never smiled. A smile might crack his lips, Charlie thought. It seemed to Charlie that with Ned’s personality he was more suited for the undertaking business than as someone who dealt with the public every day.

  “I need a bedroll, saddlebags, coffee pot, coffee, bacon, hardtack and some biscuits. Oh, and I’ll need a couple of boxes of .44 cartridges.” Charlie always made sure the rifle he carried used the same ammunition as his guns, and Tweed must have known that because the Winchester rifle was chambered for that cartridge too. “Make that four boxes of ammo. I intend to do some target practice a
day or two from now.”

  “That’ll be $5.45, stranger, plus $5 for the saddlebags and bedroll.”

  Charlie pulled a twenty-dollar gold piece from his pocket and dropped it on the counter. Ned picked it up and studied it for a moment, then placed it between his teeth. Satisfied, he opened his register and handed Charlie his change. Charlie opened the door only to find a cowboy standing threateningly in front of him.

  “I heard you are the Lone Jack Kid and you’re supposed to be fast with a gun. Well, I don’t believe it, and I’m going to prove it right now.” He smiled.

  Charlie looked at the man, nodded and walked right past him to his horse. He put down the bag containing his food, placed his saddlebags on the horse and casually tied down his bedroll. Then he picked up the grocery bag and put the food he had bought in the saddlebags.

  Cora was standing on the sidewalk with a crowd of onlookers who sensed that something terrible was about to happen. One woman turned to her.

  “Why is that man picking a fight with that nice young man?”

  Cora knew the cat was out of the bag now so she told the woman. “That young man is the famous Lone Jack Kid and it’s all my fault that this is happening. If I had only kept my mouth shut none of this would be happening.” She explained to the woman what transpired in the post office, and now both women were frightened of the outcome.

  “I’m waiting, Kid. Or are you just a chicken-hearted blowhard?”

  Charlie was about to mount Sable when the cowboy drew his gun and fired a shot at Charlie’s heel. The gunshot in the empty street sounded like a cannon this early in the morning.

  “I thought that would get your attention. Now stand aside and let’s start the show.”

  Charlie put up his hands defensively. “Look, cowboy, I have no beef with you and I don’t want to kill you, so what say we go into the cantina and I’ll buy you a drink. We’ll forget this ever happened.”

  The man sneered. “Just like I thought, big reputation but no guts.”

  Charlie knew this wasn’t going to go away so he backed away from his horse and motioned with his right hand for the cowboy to move into the street.

  “No sense killing an innocent bystander by accident. Let me know when you’re ready.”

  About twenty-five feet separated the two men. The curious spectators seemed to multiply. The whole town was watching and waiting to see what would happen.

  Charlie yelled out to the gunman. “Look we don’t have to do this. I don’t want to kill you.”

  At that moment the gunman reached for his iron but Charlie’s hand was a blur. He proved to be the faster man on that bright, sunny morning.

  Charlie walked to his horse and was about to put his foot in the stirrup when a voice called out to him.

  “You son of a bitch! You killed my friend and now I’m gonna kill you.”

  As Charlie mounted his horse he saw the man reach for his gun, so he held onto the pommel and swung around the far side of Sable. From the underside of his horse he shot the man, just as he had in Missouri when he rode with Quantr i l l , before the battle of Lone Jack.

  Cora was mesmerized. In her whole life she had never witnessed anything so brutal and frightening, yet so courageous. She knew right at that moment the seriousness of her mistake. Her childish curiosity had caused the death of two men and a third man now had no choice but to flee.

  Charlie mounted Sable and turned the horse with the intention of riding out of Kansas City. He wanted to leave before other men who were quick with a gun discovered what had happened. Maybe they too would be looking to make themselves a reputation by killing the Lone Jack Kid. But when he turned Sable to leave, two deputies stood in the middle of the road about twenty feet in front of him, holding shotguns.

  “Get off the horse, Kid,” the older of the two said.

  Instead of dismounting, the Kid walked his horse slowly to the two lawmen. “Why should I have to get off my horse, Sheriff? I’m leaving town and you’ll never see me again.”

  “I saw what happened,” he said, “but I’ll have to keep you until we can hold a hearing. Get off your horse and give me your guns.”

  “I’ll get off my horse, Sheriff, but I’m keeping my guns. I wouldn’t last a minute without them. Now I can give you a list of lawmen that you can call who’ll vouch for my integrity. I’ll remain in town and I won’t cause any trouble, but if you insist on taking my guns then you’ll have to do it man to man. I have to be honest with you. It goes against my grain to have to face down a lawman. I’ve never done it before, and I never expected to have to do it, but if you insist on taking my guns then you’ll have to kill me to get them. I’ll be even more frank with you, Sheriff. I faced down four men in Silver City and I got all four of them, so even with your shotguns I don’t think you or your deputy will be able to take me in a fair fight.”

  The Kid knew that if he faced the sheriff and his deputy and their shotguns he wouldn’t stand a fiddler’s chance in hell of winning that fight, but he bluffed it out and he could see by the expression on the sheriff’s face that it sowed doubt in his mind.

  The sheriff thought about it and, to save face, he pointed with his shotgun. “Come to my office and write down that list of lawmen and I’ll send them a telegram. If it’s like you say, I’ll allow you to keep your guns. Better yet, let’s take a walk to the telegraph station and I’ll send those telegrams to the lawmen whose names you haven’t told me yet.” The sheriff smiled at his own joke.

  “What’s your name, Sheriff?”

  “The names Lonnie Schneider but my friends call me Lon. I haven’t decided whether you’re gonna be one of my friends yet so you can call me ‘sheriff.’ At least until I get an answer to my telegrams.”

  Charlie laughed out loud, which put the sheriff at ease. “You have a deal, Sheriff.”

  Chapter 4

  Sheriff Schneider read the telegrams twice. “Well, it looks like you weren’t kidding. All the lawmen replied and speak very highly of you—and because I’m a man of my word you can keep your guns. We’ll head back to town and get some witness statements—Oh! And you can call me ‘Lon.’ Once I have the witness statements I won’t hold you up any longer. You can be on your way. By the way, where are you heading?”

  Charlie looked down at his boots and shook his head. “I don’t rightly know, Sheriff. What I do know is that after being in New York and doing that stage show every night for a year, I just want to get away from people for a while. I could have stayed on the train and took it out west a ways, but I need to be by myself to think and have some quiet time alone.” Charlie looked into the sheriff’s eyes. “You know, some solitude away from people. I figured I’d follow the wagon trails west where I may not see another person for weeks, maybe months. It gives a fella time to think and clear his head.”

  The sheriff studied Charlie for a moment then nodded in understanding. “I know just how you feel, Kid. I’d go crazy myself if I was stuck in a big city for a long time, and I know I’d want to spend some time by myself. Let’s take care of the witnesses first.” He turned to his deputy. “Wade, go back to the office and check the wanted posters. See if the two recently departed are on any of them. We’ll meet you at the office as soon as I get the witness statements.”

  An hour later Charlie and the sheriff walked into the jail. “Did you find them on any posters, Wade?”

  “Yeah, as a matter of fact I did. These were two bad gunslingers. They were wanted in Colorado for bank robbery and murder and there’s a $250 reward on each of them.”

  Schneider turned to Charlie. “Looks like you came into quite a bit of bounty money, Kid. I have it in the safe. Wait a minute while I get it for you.”

  Sheriff Schneider and his deputy stepped out onto the wooden deck in front of the jail and waved goodbye to Charlie as he turned his horse and headed up the long avenue that led out of town. Eyes turned and stared at the famous gunfighter as he rode by them, tall in the saddle.

  Cora stood up ahead in fr
ont of her store. He passed her as if she wasn’t there. Because of her immaturity she might have lost the man she always dreamed of meeting. Now it was too late to do anything but wave as he passed slowly by and think of what could have been.

  Wagon trains were often seen leaving St. Louis, Missouri, after spending a month stocking up and readying themselves for the trip west. The problem always boiled down to finding a good wagon master who knew the trails and could be depended upon to protect them and lead them safely through the plethora of hazards they would face daily. Charlie wanted no part of a wagon train. He remembered what he had gone through when he joined Ezra Saunders’ family, who were late catching up to Jeremiah Simpson’s wagon train which had already left for Virginia City.

  Charlie and Sable walked along the dry, dusty trail heading west. They were in no hurry so Charlie took his time.

  Three weeks on the road led him into Indian territory, and dark clouds portended torrential rain. Charlie had passed an outcropping of trees leaning against a naturally formed aggregate of overhanging stone about a half mile back. He turned his horse and headed back to shelter before the storm hit. He picketed Sable, gathered dry wood before the rains came and built a fire. Then he put on a pot of coffee, took out some hard tack and jerky and settled in. Just as he poured his coffee the rains came. The wind howled and lightning lit up the woods and everything around him, which he welcomed. Every time lightning lit up the skies Charlie looked for movement from the animal known as man, but he saw nothing. The trees bent almost to breaking and one tree did break when lightning struck. The tree crashed down on the overhanging stone, settling not more than ten feet from where he sat. Charlie wrapped a blanked around his shoulders and leaned against the cold rock, allowing the hot coffee to warm his stomach. The rains began slanting in his direction and he pulled the blanket tighter. He was sorry he didn’t have the foresight to kill some game, of which there was plenty. Name it and this country had it. He’d spotted plump birds, turkey, dear, panther, bear, elk and even wild pig. He would have liked a pig roasting on a spit above the fire, but that was just wishful thinking. Tomorrow he would kill some game and enjoy a good meal instead of the jerky and hard tack he was eating now.