The RECKONING: A Jess Williams Western

by Robert J. Thomas

  “I’m not from around here. My name is Jess; Jess Williams.”

  “Well, it’s nice to meet you Jess Williams and welcome to Tarkenton,” said Martha smiling.

  “Thanks, but I don’t plan on staying around too long. I’m looking for someone, a man by the name of Randy Hastings. Heard of him?”

  “Who hasn’t?” she said plainly. “Just about everyone around here knows Randy. He’s a pain in the ass and a cold-blooded killer. He came to town a few weeks ago with two other men. He killed one of the local toughs and then decided to stick around and make the rest of us miserable. He’s not someone you want to mess with. He’d just as soon kill you as look at you. What’s your business with him?”

  “Personal,” he replied bluntly.

  “Well, you watch yourself around him,” she warned as she walked back into the kitchen.

  Jess nodded and took a bite of the ham. It was so tender you could cut it with a fork. During the conversation with Martha, Scott was leaning sideways on the bar listening to them. He was jealous and it showed by the scrunched up scowl on his face. As soon as Martha walked away from Jess, Vogan picked up his drink and started to walk over to Jess’s table. Jess was listening to his footsteps and paying attention to everything in the room. He was listening for any sound of a gun being slid out of a holster or a hammer being eared back. He heard neither.

  “What’s your name, son?” asked Scott in a snide tone. Scott slowly walked around the table to face Jess. Jess put his fork down and looked up at Scott with a cold stare that seemed to make the man take a step back.

  “I’m not your son and my name ain’t any of your business,” replied Jess, in a harsh voice and a cold look on his face. “Anything else you want to ask that you’ve got no business asking about in the first place?”

  “You’re a cocky little son-of-a-bitch, ain’t ya?” asked Vogan.

  “Mister, let me make this real easy for you to understand,” he said sharply. “My business ain’t your business. I just had me a nice hot bath and now I’m trying to enjoy a good hot meal, which is something I haven’t had in a week. Now, I plan to eat this meal before it gets cold; so if you’re looking for trouble let’s get it over with right quick. If not, haul your ass back over to the bar and don’t make me tell you twice, because if I have to, I’m grabbing some iron and I’d suggest you do the same.” Jess said all of this so matter-of-factly that it took Vogan totally by surprise, and he knew when to fold up and move on and this was surely one of those times.

  “Didn’t mean to rile you up, mister,” he said as he headed back to the bar and leaned on it looking at the empty glass. The barkeep had a smirk on his face. He had enjoyed watching Vogan get his ass ripped.

  “Would you like another shot, Scott?” Sam asked sarcastically knowing that his nerves may need a little settling after all.

  “Hell yeah, might as well,” retorted Vogan. “And wipe that damn smirk off your face.”

  Jess finished his meal and Martha brought him a nice slab of apple pie. She had watched the confrontation between Jess and Scott from the doorway and she had a smile on her face when she glanced over at Vogan.

  Vogan was leaning on the bar just looking down at the shot glass. Jess savored the pie and another hot cup of coffee, paid his bill and headed down the street to the saloon to find Sheriff Manley. After Jess left, Martha came back out from the kitchen. Scott was still nursing his wounded pride along with his whiskey. She walked up behind the bar and started to help Sam wash a few glasses. Scott watched her and wondered what she thought of him after getting told off by a young kid who barely looked like he’d reached manhood yet.

  “He didn’t look all that tough,” said Vogan. Martha eyed him quizzically.

  “Then why’d you back down?” asked Martha. “You’re always looking for trouble. You had it right in the palm of your hand.” Scott let his gaze fall back to his drink.

  “Yeah,” added Sam, “for a man always looking to give someone a hard time, you sure got a case of the frights.”

  “Nobody asked you for your opinion,” muttered Vogan. “I just didn’t think it right to shoot a kid. Hell, he can’t be more than sixteen or so.”

  “He may be young, but he ain’t no kid,” replied Sam with a knowing look.

  “Hell yes he is,” chided Vogan. “You saw him. He’s still wet behind the ears for Christ’s sake.”

  “Sam’s right,” interjected Martha. “He might be a little wet behind the ears, but there’s something different about that young man. You can see it in his eyes and tell by his demeanor.”

  “Hell, that punk didn’t scare me,” rebuked Vogan. “I’ve taken on tougher men than him and I’m still standing.”

  “You tell yourself whatever you want,” she said as she walked back to the kitchen.

  Jess walked into the saloon and quickly looked around. The place was dirty and reeked of cheap whiskey and cigar smoke. The barkeep gave Jess a look and then glanced over at the men playing cards. One of the men looked to be in his fifties and had a tin star on his shirt. He nodded at the barkeep as if to say that he noticed Jess, and then went back to playing his hand.

  The barkeep looked back to Jess and asked, “Can I help you, mister?”

  “I’m looking for Sheriff Manley.” Jess looked over to the man with the badge. “I assume that would be you?”

  “You assumed right, son. Now you just wait until I finish this hand. I’ve been losing at this game all day and I think this hand will make me whole,” bragged Manley as he finished his hand and lost.

  “Damn it!” carped Manley, throwing his cards on the table. “How can I be such a lousy player?”

  “Maybe you ain’t such a lousy player,” said one of the other men at the table. “Maybe it’s just that we’re better at the game than you, Sheriff.”

  “Kiss my ass,” groused Manley. “I’ll get my money back tonight from you cheatin’ bastards.”

  “Aw, come on now, Sheriff,” claimed one of the other men in the game. “We’ve been playing fair. You’ve just been playing lousy like always.”

  “Well, you can still kiss my ass,” the sheriff countered as he pushed back his chair from the table and looked up at Jess.

  “What can I do for you stranger?” the sheriff asked.

  “I’m looking for a man who goes by the name of Randy Hastings. What can you tell me about him?”

  “That you shouldn’t be looking for him,” replied Manley directly. “He ain’t nothin’ but trouble. He’s wanted by the law and has a bounty on his head. What’s your business with him?”

  “If he’s who I think he is, he’s one of three men who murdered my family.”

  Sheriff Manley put his head down for a moment and let out a long sigh then said, “He was heard bragging one night over at the saloon after having a few too many that he had raped and killed some women some years back. No one knew if he was just braggin’ or tellin’ the truth. He killed one of the local boys here in the saloon recently. Wish he would just take off and leave this place for good.”

  “Do you know where he is now?”

  “Left town a few days ago, but he told a few people that he’d be back. You’re kinda young for a bounty hunter, ain’t ya?” asked the sheriff.

  “I never said I was.”

  “Sure do look like one,” he said. “Why the shotgun? And where did you get a pistol and holster like that?”

  “I came here to ask the questions, not answer them,” he replied crossly. “What is the bounty on Hastings?”

  “Kind of a smart-ass for such a young one,” observed Manley.

  “Maybe; now what about the bounty?”

  “Five hundred dollars the last time I checked.”

  “I’ll be collecting it when he comes back to town.”

  “I thought you said you weren’t a bounty hunter.”

  “I never said I wasn’t.”

  “There’s that smart-ass thing again.”

  “Don’t push me on it, Sheriff,”
Jess warned.

  “I’m the one wearing the star,” countered Manley.

  “Yeah, and you had a murderer in your town and didn’t do a damn thing to arrest him,” complained Jess angrily.

  “Don’t tell me how to do my job,” Manley snapped back.

  “Then don’t make me do yours.” argued Jess.

  “You gonna go at Hastings?” asked Sheriff Manley.

  “I thought I made that pretty clear.”

  “You seem kinda sure about how things are gonna turn out. Hastings ain’t gonna surrender that easy, especially to a young one like you,” said the sheriff.

  “Who said I was going to ask him to surrender?” replied Jess. “I’m staying over at the hotel. I expect you’ll let me know when he comes back to town.”

  “And just why in the hell should I do that?” demanded Manley, getting agitated at Jess’s harsh demeanor.

  “Well Sheriff, if you won’t do your job, at least be man enough to let someone else do it for you,” he barked. “Now I expect you to let me know when he comes to town. If not, you’ll answer to me.”

  “Who the hell do you think you are talking to me like that!” cried out Manley in an embarrassed tone.

  Jess took another step toward Manley and spoke calmly and directly. “I’m the man who plans on killing at least one man before I leave your town,” he warned him. “It’s up to you whether or not it’s more than one. Enjoy the rest of your game, Sheriff.”

  Jess turned and walked out of the saloon, ignoring the curse words coming from the sheriff’s mouth. He had already figured that Sheriff Manley was nothing more than a coward and he wasn’t going to waste any time on him. He had also noticed that Scott Vogan had sauntered into the bar during his discussion with Manley. Vogan had leaned on the bar saying nothing and listening closely. Jess knew that he would probably have to deal with Vogan before he left town, but that would be Vogan’s choice. Manley had watched Jess walk out of the saloon and then slowly slid his chair back up to the card table. The other three men at the table were getting ready to start on Manley about the kid telling him off.

  “Don’t even start on me,” advised Manley.

  “Start what?” one of the men said, acting as if he didn’t know what the sheriff meant.

  “You know damn well what I mean!” argued Manley. “Damn young kid thinks he can come in here and tell me what to do.”

  “I think that’s exactly what he did, Sheriff,” one of the men said and all three of them starting to chuckle.

  “Kiss my ass, the bunch of you,” muttered Manley.

  They started up the game again and one of the men got a serious tone in his voice. “You know, Sheriff, I saw something in that young man. I don’t think I’d cross him if I were you.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” asked Manley.

  “I don’t know,” replied the man. “It’s just a feeling. The way he carries himself and that gun he’s wearing. Did you ever see anything like that before?”

  “I heard of some gunslingers making up their own holsters, but I never seen one like that,” one of the other men said.

  “Well, I ain’t messing with that kid anyway,” interjected Sheriff Manley. “This damn job don’t pay enough. I just run in the drunks and sweep out the jail. If the town wants more than that, they can hire themselves another sheriff.”

  Jess took a stroll around town and checked out the buildings and back entrances to them. He wanted to know more about his surroundings before Hastings came back to town. He stopped at the livery to check on Gray.

  “How’s he doing?” Jess asked Billy. The stable boy had been brushing Gray down when Jess walked up.

  “He’s doing just fine, mister,” he replied. “He sure likes apples. I hope it’s okay that I gave him a few earlier.”

  “He loves apples,” he said. “Just don’t give him too many, he’s quite the hog. I’ll be staying in town a few days over at the hotel. How would you like to make ten dollars?”

  “Golly, ten dollars! That’s a lot of money. What do I have to do for it?” he asked excitedly.

  “All you have to do is let me know when Hastings gets back to town.”

  “What if he finds out I told you?” he asked, a worried look on his face. “He’ll beat me for sure and I’ll lose my job and I need this job mister. I have to help my ma. She’s got a bum leg and can’t do much work. Besides, how am I supposed to let you know without getting caught?”

  “I’ll tell you how, Billy,” he replied. “I’m staying at the hotel in room twelve. If it’s late at night, just knock on my door three times, wait a few seconds, and knock twice more. If it’s during the day, just find me and look me in the eyes from a distance. I’ll know what it means. And I’ll make it twenty dollars instead, how’s that?”

  “Well, my ma can sure use twenty dollars.”

  “Thanks, Billy, I owe you,” he said as he turned to walk out. Before he got to the front door, he turned and said, “Hey, Billy?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I never saw a dead man give anyone a beating,” he said with a knowing look.

  Jess went back to the hotel and picked up his clean set of clothes. He went to his room and packed his clothes in his bag. He always had to be ready to move at an instant. After that, he went back down to the dining room of the hotel and had supper. He turned in early and arranged his room very carefully. He put the chair in front of the door and put his pistol on the table next to his bed. The bed was comfortable, much more so than the cold hard ground he had been sleeping on the last several days. He drifted off to sleep wondering how he would kill Randy Hastings. He wanted to make him suffer as much as possible. He imagined putting the last bullet between his eyes.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Jess rose before dawn, dressed and went down to the dining room. There were a few people already eating. He sat down in the corner again. Before long, Martha came out of the kitchen and took a few orders and then she noticed him. She brought him a cup and poured him some coffee.

  “Are you hungry this morning?” asked Martha.

  “How about some scrambled eggs and a pile of bacon?”

  “Be right out with it,” she said smiling.

  “Still got any of that apple pie left for dessert?” he asked before she walked away.

  “I saved a piece just for you.”

  “And maybe you could throw in some flapjacks, too?”

  “My, my; aren’t we hungry this morning?” she asked playfully.

  “I’m still a growing boy,” he replied, shrugging his shoulders. Martha laughed as she headed for the kitchen.

  Jess finished breakfast and washed it down with several cups of hot coffee. He noticed Sheriff Manley eating at another table. Jess left Martha a nice tip and once again she smiled. It was the best tip she’d ever got waiting tables. She walked over and began cleaning off Sheriff Manley’s table. He had been joined by one of his poker pals, a man by the name of Ron Butler.

  “Well, Martha,” the sheriff asked, “what do you think about our young new guest we have in town.”

  “I don’t rightly know yet, Sheriff, but he seems like a mighty interesting young man. I think he acts a lot older than he really is.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Sheriff, he may be all of sixteen or seventeen, but he acts more like a man of twenty. He backed down Scott Vogan yesterday and the look in his eyes when he was doing it…well…it scared Vogan, and quite frankly, it scared me a little, too.”

  “Really; what kind of look?” asked the sheriff.

  “The kind of look that could burn a hole straight through you,” she replied frankly. “A look of torment and hatred all rolled up into one. If that look didn’t kill you, I’m sure he would in a heartbeat. Yet, he seems like such a nice young man. It’s a little strange; like he’s two people all wrapped up as one.”

  “Well, you don’t have to worry about him much longer,” said the sheriff. “He’s looking for Randy Hastings.”r />
  “He told me that yesterday,” she said fatefully. “I sure wouldn’t want to be him.”

  “You mean our young guest over there?”

  “No, I’m saying I wouldn’t want to be Randy Hastings,” replied Martha with caution.

  Ron Butler finally chimed in. “Hastings is pretty damn fast with those twin six-shooters,” said Butler. “I watched him draw in that gunfight over at the saloon and he was pretty quick. Hastings won’t be a pushover when it comes to a gunfight.”

  “Call it a hunch, but I think Hastings may have met his match,” she said as she walked back to the kitchen.

  “What do you think, Sheriff?” asked Butler.

  “I don’t know, but I’ll put ten bucks on Hastings if you’ll take the bet,” said the sheriff. Butler thought about what Martha had said about the young man called Jess Williams and took the bet.

  Jess went out on the porch of the hotel and sat in one of the chairs. He watched the town wake up and watched the local townspeople going about their daily business. Sheriff Manley left the hotel and headed for the saloon. Jess took another stroll around town and stopped in to see Billy at the livery. The old man who owned the livery was there and he was yelling at Billy for taking too much time caring for Jess’s horse. Jess showed up just as the old man slapped Billy on the back of the head.

  “Damn it boy, quit fussing over that damn horse and clean up this shit here!” hollered the old man. “I ain’t telling you again, you hear?”

  “Yes, sir,” replied Billy. “I’ll get to it right now.”

  “Well, see to it that you do,” grumbled the old man.

  Billy grabbed a shovel and started to scoop up the horse droppings. Jess walked into the livery. The old man noticed him when Jess said good morning to Billy. Billy just nodded at Jess and kept working for fear he’d get another slap on the head.

  “What can I do for you?” the old man asked in a grumpy voice.

  “Well, first off, you can stop slapping the boy around,” replied Jess. “That horse he’s fussing over is mine. I expect him to be taken care of properly, and I made him promise me to do so.” Jess didn’t mention the extra money he was paying Billy to take care of Gray, remembering what Billy said about the old man taking the money if he found out.