The Gunslinger (Barnett Ranch)

by Pamela Ladner

  © by Pamela Ladner

  The Gunslinger

  Barnett Ranch Series (vol.1)

  Pamela Ladner

  9/18/2012

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One 3

  Chapter Two 6

  Chapter Three 9

  Chapter Four 11

  Chapter Five 14

  Chapter Six 16

  Chapter Seven 20

  Chapter Eight 24

  Chapter Nine 26

  Chapter Ten 28

  Chapter Eleven 30

  Chapter Twelve 32

  Chapter Thirteen 35

  Chapter Fourteen 40

  Chapter Fifteen 42

  Chapter Sixteen 45

  Chapter Seventeen 48

  Chapter Eighteen 51

  Chapter Nineteen 54

  Chapter Twenty 56

  Chapter Twenty One 58

  Epilogue 61

  Chapter One

  Chugwater, Wyoming Territory 1885

  He rode into town on a big black stud. His pistols strapped to his sides, and a rifle strapped to the saddle. He had only his saddlebags, a bedroll and a sheepskin cantina. He wore a black vest, black hat, black jeans and black boots. His very essence spoke volumes about how dangerous he could be. His complexion darkly tanned from being out in the sun often, his hair was jet black and his eyes were a deep blue. He rode into town, in the middle of the afternoon, and headed for the hotel. He was a stranger to these parts. No one knew him here and he felt he could finally put down his guns and start a new life.

  Angel Jax Tanner would no longer be known by the name; The Angel of Death. He was here to start over. He wanted to change his ways from the first time he picked up the good book. His mother would roll over in her grave if she knew he lived his life as a gunslinger. He may not have a wanted poster with his name on it but he’d become, known for being fast with a gun and gunslingers came looking for him everywhere he went.

  They were all the same, young men who thought themselves fast with a gun always wanted to make a name for their self. They tracked him down and picked a fight. He’d tell them to walk away, but they never listened. He was tired of killing children, who thought themselves grown. He only killed to protect himself, but it was never something he enjoyed. He was done with it, all of it. From now on, he was just Jax Tanner. No one knew his middle name, so he hoped no one would figure it out. He was done with that life. Today he was starting over. It was time to settle down.

  He walked into the hotel, took a room and had a bath brought up. His face was, covered with dirt, from days on the trail with no bath. He needed a shave, too. He would take care of all of that after he took his horse to the livery. He figured by the time he got finished taking care of his horse, he would have a warm bath waiting on him at the hotel.

  His spurs jingled as he walked up the street toward the hotel, his saddle bags slung over his shoulder and his rifle under his left arm. Women stopped to stare and the men folk ushered them along. The sight of him probably scared most people. He was a drifter, and if any of them knew his reputation, they’d have good reason to run away in a hurry. He pushed the door open to the hotel took his room key and headed up the stairs.

  The bath was ready and waiting for him. He deposited his belongings on the bed, draped his guns over a chair within reach and climbed in the tub, clothes and all. He grabbed a bar of soap that lay on a table next to the tub, and scrubbed his face and neck. He removed his clothes and scrubbed the rest of him, then scrubbed the clothes. The water turned black, and he figured it was time to get out. He dried himself off and laid his clothes out to dry. He grabbed a clean set of clothes out of his saddlebags and put them on. His stomach growled so he decided to go see about getting some food in his belly.

  There was a restaurant next to the hotel, and he hoped he could get a good meal there. He strapped on his guns and walked out. It felt good to be clean, but when you were clean, you suddenly started smelling everyone else’s body odor. He turned his nose up as he passed the hotel clerk. The man smelled as if he had not had a bath in a month. Still, he knew he’d been just as rank himself. He hurried out the door and into the restaurant next door.

  They were serving fried chicken, potatoes, turnip greens and cornbread. It had been a long time since he ate a home cooked meal. All his meals consisted of beans, and stew over a campfire. It would be nice to eat something different, even if it wasn’t the best he’d ever had.

  The elderly woman, who cooked the food, came out to check on the patrons and ask how the food was. She hesitated before she came to his table, but after only a moment she made her way over to the table to make conversation. “Howdy, Stranger, I’m Mrs. Ellen Barnett. How’s the food? I hope it’s up to par. You look like a man who’s traveled a lot and I bet you’ve ate at a few good establishments in your travels.” “Yes, Ma’am, everything is fine. The food is definitely up to par. I would say that it’s better than most. I’m Jax Tanner; by the way, it’s nice to meet you.” The old woman took a seat across the table. “Well now, that’s a real nice name. I like it. How long, are you planning to stay in town Mr. Tanner?” “I am hoping to settle down, if I can find some kind of employment. I’m just a little tired of traveling.” “I guess I might be able to help you out with that. I need a man around here to do some of the heavy lifting, and deal with some of the more rowdy male customers, if you know what I mean. Do you think you might be interested in a job like that?” “Ma’am, I’d be interested in just about any kind of job at this point.” “Good, how soon can you start? I am expecting a good bit of trail hands coming through here in the next few days. It’s that time of year, when the cowboys come through here with the big cattle drives heading north to Montana. Of course, they say this will be the last year. I don’t know if I believe that but we’ll see I reckon.” “Well, if you’d like, I can start tomorrow.” “ That sounds real nice; I’ll see you tomorrow, bright and early.”

  Jax started to pay for his meal and leave, but Mrs. Ellen told him it was free to all her employees. He thanked her, tipped his hat and left. His next stop was going to be the livery. He wanted to check on his stallion. He had big plans for him as a stud. He could make a living off breeding the stallion and he had every, intention of doing so eventually.

  He paid the livery, man extra to have the horse fed and hayed. He would tend to all the horses other needs himself. Soon he would need to find a place to stay with a stable and plenty of grass. He had a dream of owning a few broodmares as well. The horse was going to be his lively hood.

  He patted the stallion’s neck and left him standing in his stall. He still had a lot to do. He shook the livery, man’s hand and headed up the street toward the general store. He needed to get some new clothes and some tobacco for his pipe. He picked up the nasty habit of smoking when he was seventeen and hadn’t been able to break the habit since.

  The general store was, packed with people, but most of them cleared out when he walked in. That was nothing new, but he often hated it. He was a man without friends and it tended to get a little lonely. The life he’d chosen was the life of a solitary man, not a man who wanted to settle down and make friends. Maybe one day he might even like to start a family.

  He combed through the items, laid out before him. There were a lot, of men’s shirts, in several different colors. There were also plenty of dresses for women. He reckoned there must be a seamstress in town, to have that much of a selection. He picked up a couple different shirts, a pair of pants and he tried on a couple jackets. He would need one, soon. The winter would be here before they knew it and he needed to replace the one he lost.

  He took the items to the counter to pay for them. The old man figured it up i
n a hurry. He probably wanted him out of there, so other customers would return. He paid for the items and took them back to the hotel. He lay on the bed and picked up the good book. He read the psalms. They were his favorite. He kicked off his boots and crossed his feet, to get comfortable. Tomorrow he would set down his roots.

  Chapter Two

  Jax slept good for the first time in a long time. It had been too long since he’d slept in a real bed or since he’d slept without one eye open. He quickly dressed in his new clothes put on his guns and headed next door to help Mrs. Ellen at the restaurant.

  The first thing she did was make him sit down and have a bite to eat. Then she went over his duties for the day. “As you know the main reason I hired you is to keep an eye on those rowdy cowboys, coming in off the trail. They get a little carried away, flirting with the ladies. Now, my granddaughter is due in town today. She’s going to be giving me a hand. It goes against everything in her nature to be in the kitchen but her daddy insisted on her staying with me while he takes a herd to Montana. She’s been born and raised on his ranch with no women about. Her only siblings are her two older brothers. Her mother died in childbirth. So as you can see, I’m the only female relative she’s got and she don’t see why on earth, she’s got to stay here with me, instead of going with the men to herd cattle. Well I guess that’s enough about her, you’ll meet her soon enough. Now, as for your other duties, I’ll need someone to keep the wood supply up, so I hope you’re good with an axe. I’ll need someone to help with the heavy lifting, and if you don’t mind picking up a broom every now and then, that would be a lot of help too. Also, I may occasionally ask you to go out hunting. I get sick of cooking the same old thing.”

  Jax finished his breakfast and carried his plate to the kitchen. A young girl about fifteen was busy washing dishes as they came in. Jax tipped his hat to her and went to check the woodpile. He didn’t mind chopping wood. It reminded him of his youth. That was a time when his whole world revolved around farm chores and his mother was still there to guide him. His father ran off and joined the army, so it was just him and his mother. He often had to do chores that were for a grown man, but he gritted his teeth and done it anyway.

  The war had eventually taken his father from them and soon his mother followed. A neighbor took him in and taught him to shoot, and from then on, his life had changed forever. He struck out on his own, and never looked back. He found himself in one scrap after another, fighting for his life. He was fast and as soon as word spread about just how fast, more people would come to fight him. One by one he’d laid them in their grave, and they dubbed him the Angel of Death. His mother had always called him Angel, but he could never call himself that again. The Angel of Death left a stigma on him that made him sick.

  Jax put all that bottled up frustration into chopping wood. By the time he was through there was more than enough for the rest of the day. He stacked the wood closer to the back door so that the ladies cooking wouldn’t have to go far to retrieve it. He wiped the sweat from his face and neck with his bandanna. He found a water trough and wet it so he could cleanse the grit off him. Then he tied the wet bandanna around his neck. He rolled up his sleeves to his elbows to cool off some.

  Mrs. Ellen popped her head out the door to find him. “Well my, my, you’ve sure been busy. I reckon you won’t have to chop anymore of that wood for a week. That’s mighty fine work. I was hoping you might give me a hand with something. I need to go over to the general store and I would like it if you would escort me over there. I noticed some of those trail hands have already rode into town. They don’t bother with an old lady like me but I still prefer male company when they’re about.” “Yes ma’am, we can go whenever you’re ready.” “Well come on then.”

  She wasn’t kidding about the trail hands. They were wild and rowdy. They cursed around women, spit wherever they felt like it and when they were drunk, they shot up the town. It weren’t that they were bad men. They were all young and rowdy, and generally tired of the trail. Most of them just got a little too excited when they saw a woman after being on the trail so long without anything but cattle to look at.

  He guided Mrs. Ellen across the street, to the stares of everyone around. They must have thought it strange to see such a fine older lady with the likes of him. He was dangerous and everyone could see it, except Mrs. Ellen it seemed. She just chattered right on, ignoring everyone’s looks and praising him for being such a gentleman. He knew better though. He was no gentleman. There wasn’t a gentle bone in his body, but Mrs. Ellen reminded him of his mother. She stirred up old memories that made him want to be gentle.

  The clerk at the general store looked confused. It was amusing to Jax how the man’s face contorted as he tried to understand. Mrs. Ellen ignored him and rattled off the things she needed. The clerk rushed to box them up. “Mrs. Ellen, I’ll have this delivered as soon as my help arrives.” “No need for that, Mr. Tanner can carry it for me. He hired on to help out at the restaurant.” Jax picked up the heavy crate and followed Mrs. Ellen back across the street.

  She prattled on about the restaurant among other things, but Jax wasn’t listening. His eyes were roaming the street. The men he’d seen earlier were standing outside the restaurant doors waiting for them to open. They were perched in chairs and propped against the post.

  Mrs. Ellen opened the door and turned the closed sign around. “We’re open now, gentlemen. I expect you to behave around the ladies though.” She gave them each the once over and waited for them to acknowledge their understanding before walking inside. Jax followed her with the crate, and set them down as quickly as he could. He wanted to keep an eye on these fellows. He walked out of the kitchen and propped himself up against the counter. He made his presence known by resting his hand on the hilt of his pistol and stared a hole in the table of men. It was meant to let them know, there would be no foolishness in this establishment.

  He was quite surprised when he heard a gun cock behind him. He moved his hand from his side and slowly turned around. The biggest surprise was who held the gun. He’d been expecting an old enemy, or a friend of the cowboys sitting at the table. What he had not expected was to find a woman holding a gun on him. She was dressed the part of a woman who’d been raised on a ranch. She wore tan leather chaps over a pair of boys jeans. She wore a gun belt slung low on her hips and a floral print button down shirt graced the top of her attire. On her head, she wore a cowboy’s hat, instead of a bonnet and her face had turned dark from the sun. Her eyes were a light brown with a greenish tint and her hair hanging down her back was straight and dark brown.

  He lifted his hands higher, and was about to ask her who she was when she beat him to it. “Who are you and just what kind of trouble do you think you’re going to start in here?” “Lady, I’m not looking to start any trouble. I’m here to prevent it.” “I asked you who you are?” “If you’ll put that gun away, I’ll be glad to tell you my name, but if you don’t you’re bound to find out after I take it from you.” She huffed, “I highly doubt that.”

  Mrs. Ellen stepped through the doors from the back and stopped dead in her tracks. “Virginia Elizabeth Barnett, take your gun off that man, this instant.” “I caught him trying to make trouble with his hand on his gun staring at the customers. Now, I aim to see him out of here, Granny.” “Virginia, I hired him to keep the customers from making trouble, and the only one that’s going anywhere is you and you’re going right back in that kitchen. Do you hear?” “But,” Mrs. Ellen cut her off. “No but, nothing. Get yourself back in that kitchen.” Virginia eased the hammer back in place and put the pistol back in its place.

  “I’m sorry about that. I told you she’s been raised a heathen. I aim to turn her into a lady, if it’s the last thing I do. Well, I’ll let you get back to watching the customers, although I think she may have just blown your cover.” Jax turned around to find the table of cowboys all laughing at him. It was just his luck that a woman who couldn’t be no older than nineteen would be t
he first person to ever sneak up behind him. He resumed his position and pulled the hammer back on his pistol. The table of cowboys stopped laughing at once.

  Chapter Three

  Most days Jax sat in a chair out front whittling a stick. He only came inside once in a while to pick up a broom or keep an eye on a pack of rough looking cow punchers, which stumbled in for a meal. Virginia figured he had to be the laziest man she’d ever lay eyes on and she told him as much. Then again, she’d never been around when he chopped wood, so she really wouldn’t know that he could work as hard as any other man could. No, he was doing what Mrs. Ellen was paying him to do, and though it irritated him to hear her call him lazy, he let it go. He couldn’t watch the customers if he was busy doing other things.

  She constantly insisted she could do his job better than he could, and he never felt the need to correct her. He didn’t need anyone knowing about his past. He feared if he let them see him use his guns they would figure it out, and word would get out that the Angel of Death was here and he would have no peace.

  Besides anyone who had any sense could see he’d been a gunslinger. It didn’t take a genius to notice he had the traits of one. The way he wore his guns, and watched in silence was more than enough to send off warning bells. The only one who didn’t see it was Virginia. She taunted him constantly. If she’d been a man, he’d have dealt with it already. He found her constant belittling of him irritating.

  He’d put up with it for four days and he needed a break. He headed for the livery to get his horse, so he could take a ride. He was sure the stallion needed to release some pent up frustration of his own, being surrounded by mares all day and being confined to a stall was probably about to do him in. Jax threw a saddle on him and mounted up. The horse danced a jig, and Jax settled him down. He held him back until they reached the edge of town, then he kicked him into a gallop and they both took their frustrations out on the open range.