The RECKONING: A Jess Williams Western

by Robert J. Thomas

  Jess knew Sheriff Steele would involve himself, it was just in the nature of a man like him to never shy away from a problem. Steele grabbed a few more shotgun shells and put them in his front pocket. He noticed Jess had two pockets sewed into his shirt that held two shells in just the right place.

  “Kind of handy,” said Steele, as he nodded at Jess’s shirt as Steele was putting the twelve gauge shotgun shells into his pocket.

  “I like to be prepared, Sheriff,” he replied.

  They both seemed ready and they looked at each other for a moment as if to wonder how their two lives had seemed to cross paths at this moment in time. Then they nodded at each other and walked out onto the front porch of the sheriff’s office. They took a look around the street and up at the rooftops to make sure no one was ready to take a shot at them. As they walked across the street, and without taking his eyes off the front doors of the saloon, Steele said, “I sure hope you’re as good as Jed said you was.” There was no answer from Jess. He had other things to concentrate on.

  As they walked up the two steps to the porch in front of the saloon, Steele could see that the four men who rode in with Mason had turned around with their backs to the bar. As Jess and Steele walked into the bar, the two of them split up. Jess went to the right and Steele to the left. Steele could hardly hear it when Jess said to him in a whisper, “the two on the left are yours, if you want in.” The room was so quiet you could hear a cockroach fart. Finally, Mason finished up his drink and slowly turned around to face Jess and Sheriff Steele.

  “Sheriff,” said Mason, as he shot a look at Jess. “Is that the young man responsible for killing Ben Grady?”

  “As a matter of fact, yes it is,” answered Steele, setting the twelve-gauge on a table, but still within his reach. Mason looked Jess over for a moment. He was looking at a young man who looked to be not more than seventeen years old; however, Mason could sense there was more to this young man than a cursory glance could tell.

  “So, you’re the kid who outdrew Ben Grady?” asked Mason.

  “Yep, that would be me,” said Jess, not taking his eyes off Paul Mason. Jess realized right off Mason was the man who controlled his other four hired guns in the saloon, who were all staring at Jess. Jess knew they would do nothing without Mason’s approval.

  “You know what son, Ben Grady was my best man. You have to realize just how hard it is for me to believe that a young kid like you outdrew him. Hell, boy, you ain’t lived as long as Ben Grady was hiring his gun out. The Sheriff here claims it was a fair fight?” an angry Mason spoke. Sheriff Steele didn’t move or say one word, but a voice from behind the bar spoke up. It was Jed, the barkeep.

  “Mr. Mason,” interjected Jed. “I saw the fight and it was a fair one. Ben drew on Jess first. Jess here drew that gun so fast I could hardly see it. Grady never even had a chance. His gun damn near fell back inside the holster. The only reason it didn’t was Grady fell back and his pistol fell out of his hand and on the floor. I’m telling you, I saw it; but I still don’t believe it.”

  Mason listened to Jed’s recount of the gunfight, but it only made him angrier. There was no way he could replace Ben Grady unless he could hire this young man who had killed him. He didn’t think that was possible and he wasn’t sure in his mind this kid was all that good. Maybe he just got off a lucky shot. He didn’t know and he didn’t really care. All he cared about was that he had lost his best man and because of that he would lose a lot of money over the next year or so it would take to replace him.

  “Well, son,” groused Mason. “It seems like we have a problem.” Jess cocked his head a little and smiled at Mason, which only made him angrier.

  “I don’t seem to have a problem,” replied Jess. Mason took a step forward.

  “You don’t see that you have a problem?” he asked. Jess thought about if for another moment. He looked at the other four men standing at the bar and then back to Mason.

  “No, not really,” replied Jess calmly. Mason started peeling his leather gloves off one finger at a time while trying to stare Jess down. Jess didn’t flinch or show the slightest sign of being nervous.

  “How old are you son?” asked Mason.

  “Sixteen.”

  “Only sixteen?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “How long have you been using that pistol?”

  “Long enough, I guess.”

  “You guess?” An annoyed Mason questioned.

  “That’s what I said,” said Jess casually.

  “Where’d you get a gun like that?”

  “Found it.”

  “Well, son, how the hell did you make it to sixteen with an attitude like that?”

  “I didn’t know I had an attitude.”

  Steel was trying to hold in a laugh although he didn’t know how he could laugh at a time like this. Here he was listening to this young man facing up to an old, tough, rich ranch baron and the kid was either toying with Mason or just didn’t care about answering his questions. Steele had never seen anyone talk to Mason like this before and he kind of liked it. Mason, however, didn’t like it one bit and his ears were beginning to turn red. He was losing what little patience he had left with Jess.

  “Damn it kid,” yelled Mason. “You’re really starting to piss me off. Now, here’s the deal. I believe in an eye for an eye. Now, the sheriff here says he won’t stand for anything but a fair fight. If it was up to me and the sheriff wasn’t here, I’d have just shot you on sight when I found out who you were. As you can plainly see, I brought out four of my best men. Ray here is the best of the four. Grady was a good friend of Ray’s, and Ray here wants to make you answer for killing Grady. You understand what I’m saying?”

  Jess never took his eyes off Mason. He could see Ray, who was to Mason’s right and he watched him out of the corner of his eye. But his main focus was on Paul Mason, and he stared deep into Mason’s eyes. It was the kind of stare that looked through a man, yet still allowed you to see everything else in the room. Then, after a moment of tense silence following Mason’s little speech, Jess spoke in a very low, soft and deliberate tone with no telltale signs of fear.

  “Mr. Mason, I guess you’ve had your say and now I’ll have mine,” he said slowly. “I didn’t know Ben Grady and I sure didn’t pick a fight with him. He drew on me first and for no reason, so that meant he was nothing short of a murderer. Now, you paid him to be a hired gun, which is no different than a murderer. That, Mr. Mason, makes you a murderer too, which in my book, puts you on the wrong side of right. Now, to make matters even worse, you come to town hell bent to kill me just for defending myself. Was I supposed to just let him shoot me so you could be in a better mood today? Maybe no one ever taught you right from wrong, but more likely than that, I figure you just don’t give a shit. So, now here’s my deal and you listen real close because I don’t have a habit of repeating myself. You see, Mr. Mason, it really doesn’t matter if you have Ray challenge me first or if you have one of the others do it. It doesn’t even matter if you have all four of your men take me on at one time.

  You see, the only thing that really matters here, is I’m going to put the first bullet square in your chest about a split second after anyone moves in this room including Jed behind the bar there. Do you understand that? No matter what happens today, you die. Maybe me, maybe the sheriff here and maybe everyone in this room will die, but make no mistake about this, you are going to be the first one to die here today. Now, that’s the deal. I don’t have another thing to say about it so don’t ask me any more questions. I’ve wasted enough of my time with you already.” Jess had now altered Mason’s entire game plan and Mason was not happy about it.

  Mason was a man who hadn’t been talked to in this manner for more years than he could remember. That, along with his temper, was the only explanation for what happened next. The only thing you could hear before Mason went for his gun was; “you bastard…”

  Mason’s hand was moving. Jess stole a glance at Ray and determined t
hat Ray was going for Steele. Jess figured that Steele was in now like it or not and Jess would let him handle Ray and the other man. Mason’s hand never got a grip on the pearl handle of his Colt .45. Jess’s shot caught him square in the chest. The other four men were all going for their guns. Jess’ second shot hit the man to Mason’s immediate right and his third shot hit the man next to him. He had fanned the second and third shots with his left hand. Steele had caught his first man, Ray, before he got his gun leveled at Steele, but he took a shot in the left shoulder before he caught the second man. Within a few seconds, five men lay dead on the floor and the smoke was heavy in the air from the gunpowder. Steele couldn’t help but notice Jess had shot Mason and the man next to him before he got his first shot off. Jed just stood behind the bar at one end like a statue.

  “Jesus Goddamn Christ,” he said, almost in a whisper.

  Steele was somewhat in shock himself, partially because he had been shot, but mostly because he couldn’t believe the speed of Jess’s gun hand. He knew a lot of men that were considered fast at skinning leather; but the truth was it was mostly that they were cool headed and didn’t miss with their first shot. The ones that were considered fast were the ones who stayed cool under pressure and made their first shot count, but this was different. Jess was not only cool under pressure; he was blazingly fast and accurate. Jess had pulled off all three shots in less than a second and he made every one of them count. Jed threw the sheriff a bar towel after he finally broke himself from his trance and Steele tucked it under his shirt where the bullet had passed through his shoulder. He winced a little at the pain it caused.

  “Jess, I thought Jed here was exaggerating a little when he told me how fast you were, but now that I’ve seen it for myself, even I can’t believe it,” exclaimed Sheriff Steele. “How in the hell did you ever learn to shoot that fast?”

  “Practice, Sheriff, lots and lots of practice,” he replied as he replaced the spent cartridges and holstered his pistol. Sheriff Steele shot Jess a strange look. Jess noticed the fine bottles of whiskey on the bar. “Sheriff, how about I buy you a drink. It doesn’t look like these boys are going to finish that bottle and it sure looks like a good one at that.”

  “That’s one of my best bottles,” offered Jed. “Mr. Mason only drinks the best and he had me order it special. It’s really good whiskey.”

  “Well, I guess I can have a drink or maybe two before I go to the Doc’s. Hell, this doesn’t look too bad,” said Steele, as he checked his shoulder where he had taken a bullet.

  Sheriff Steele and Jess finished the bottle without another word and Jed just looked at the both of them thinking that he had just witnessed something not too many people would ever get to see. When the bottle was empty, the sheriff went to see the Doctor and Jess sat down at a table and looked at the five dead bodies lying on the floor. He wondered if Sheriff Steele hadn’t thrown in with him if he would be lying on the floor dead right now. The sheriff had sent the undertaker and some men over to clean up and carry the bodies out. Jess watched, showing no emotion. He finally spotted Patti looking out of the back door of the saloon. He looked at her and smiled a little. So little, you could hardly tell. After the bodies were all removed and Jed had mopped up most of the blood, Patti came out and sat down next to Jess.

  “I’ve seen a lot of shooting in my days, but nothing like that,” said Patti, a bewildered look on her face. “You’re not just any young man, are you Jess Williams? There is something very special about you. Maybe you were born to it or maybe destiny has just singled you out for something special, but you’re not like other men. I’m glad I had the chance to meet someone like you.”

  “Thanks, Patti,” he said. “I wonder about it myself sometimes. I figure that you’re a special woman, too, and I’m glad I got to meet you.” Patti stood up and smiled down at Jess.

  “How about something to eat?” she asked.

  “That sounds like a great idea.”

  Patti nodded and went back in the kitchen and fixed Jess a plate of the day’s special. A few men were starting to filter into the saloon now. They had heard about the gunfight and they were quiet and just sat around and talked amongst themselves, every once in a while they would glance over at Jess. He heard them, but he didn’t listen. He knew what they were talking about and they’d be talking about it for the rest of their lives. They’d be telling the story about how they were there the day that Jess Williams took down three men in one gunfight. Jess continued to eat his food and when he finished, he went to his room and stayed there for the remainder of the day.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Hank Beard left Timber about an hour after Jess had ridden out to have some coffee with River Bend Bill. Their paths never crossed even though they had just spent the night in the same hotel with only one room separating them. Here was the man Jess was looking for and he had been in a bed less than thirty feet away. Beard hadn’t talked with anyone and had no idea Jess was in town or that he was looking for him. He had other things on his mind. He was focused on the planned robbery of Mason’s money coach and he wanted to talk to Grady and finish up their plans. He knew Grady wasn’t in town because when he was, Grady’s horse was always in the same place at the stable and it hadn’t been there when Beard had arrived. And because Grady didn’t often come to town, he didn’t think this unusual. Beard knew that Grady usually stayed out at the Mason ranch and close to Mason himself since Mason had his share of enemies.

  Hank spent most of his day checking out some hiding places within a mile or so out of town just in case. Little did he know he was at one point within half a mile from River Bend Bill’s place while Jess was having coffee with Bill. He knew about Bill’s place and he avoided it because he didn’t want anyone to know what he was up to. Hank figured the less people knew the better. He eventually arrived at the Mason ranch just about sundown. The shootout in the saloon between Steele, Jess and Mason and his four hired guns was already history and people were talking about it.

  Word had already reached the Mason ranch and Mason’s widow was already finished with her grieving. She shed a few tears, but the truth was she had fallen out of love with Paul Mason a long time ago. He cheated on her and treated her like a tool that he had to keep around when the need struck him. She wouldn’t miss him. She would miss the young Paul Mason she fell in love with years ago, but not the Paul Mason who had become so wealthy that he paid more attention to his money than his wife. Before the end of the day, she had already started to rearrange the ranch to fit her desires and she even threw some of his things out. After Hank stabled his horse, hoping he could bed down for the night and visit with Ben Grady, he walked up to the bunkhouse and asked for a cup of coffee and if anyone knew where Ben Grady was?

  “Didn’t you hear? Ben’s dead and so is Mr. Mason,” said a tall lanky cowhand by the name of Luke. “Hell we don’t even know if we have a job anymore.”

  Several of the men in the bunkhouse told the story to Hank about this young bounty hunter killing Ben and then facing down Mason and four other hired guns. They talked about how Ben never cleared his gun from its holster and how Sheriff Steele had thrown in with the kid against Mason. Beard listened to the story intently, taking it all in and having a hard time believing it. He was listening especially hard when one of the men told of Jess asking Grady if he knew a man by the name of Hank Beard and that he was looking for him.

  “Did this Williams kid say why he was looking for me?” asked Hank.

  “Said something about you killing his family and all,” replied one of the hands.

  “Said you killed and raped his little sister. You didn’t do none of that, did ya, Hank?” asked one of the other hands.

  “Hell, he’s talking out his ass,” lied Grady. “I ain’t raped any women and I sure ain’t raped no little girls. I can get all the women I want, anytime I want.” Beard took another swallow of his coffee. The hands were all watching him and wondering what he was going to do about the kid who was gunning for
him.

  “You boys mind me bunking down here tonight?” asked Grady. “I don’t need much, just a spot to lay my bedroll.”

  “Sure, that’s fine, I guess,” said one of them. “But if that kid comes gunnin' for ya here, you’re on your own. None of us are tangling with the guy that took down Ben Grady.”

  “Don’t worry, boys,” said Grady. “I take care of my own business. I ain’t scared of no boy even if he did take down Grady. He comes in here looking for me you just let me handle him.”

  Hank sounded pretty convincing, but the hands could tell he was worried. He knew how fast Grady was and anyone who could take him in a fair fight, had to be pretty damn good. Hank figured right then and there he would try to find the kid and ambush him. Hell, he’d blow a hole in him with his shotgun before the kid even knew what hit him. He’d do it while the kid was asleep.

  He finished his coffee and lay down on his bedroll. He was trying to figure out who he would ask to go in with him on the stage robbery now that Grady was dead. Even with Paul Mason dead, his widow would still run the ranch and still run the money into the bank in Timber. He already had it all planned out so maybe he would cut himself in for sixty percent instead of fifty. That would leave him with enough money to last him for years.

  His thoughts turned to the kid that was gunning for him. He figured it must be someone related to the family he and his other two partners had murdered. That wasn’t the first family they had murdered, and it wasn’t the first time Blake Taggert had raped a woman, but it was the first time Blake Taggert had raped a little girl. He and Hank had gotten into a real bad argument about it and Hank told him if he ever did that again it would be the last job they would do together. He didn’t care what Taggert did on his own; he just didn’t want anything like that tied to him. Hank had no problem with robbing and killing people though. He was the one who took the kitchen knife to Jess’s ma. He stabbed her while she was screaming and he kept stabbing her, over and over again. Hank dozed off to a light sleep. He had his twelve-gauge lying next to him under his blanket with his hand on it. He knew someone was hunting him and he wasn’t going down easy.