Justice for Jasper

by A. T. Butler

  Justice for Jasper

  A Western Novella

  A.T. Butler

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Also by A.T. Butler

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Jacob Payne almost got himself bit.

  “Whoa, there!” He pulled his fingers away just in time. The dapple gray mustang had seemed friendly enough, but as soon as Jacob’s fingers brushed close to its mouth, it snapped at him. Jacob glared at the horse’s current owner. “Thought you said this one was broken.”

  Caleb Shaw widened his eyes, wearing his most innocent expression. “He is. You musta riled him somehow.”

  “Uh huh,” Jacob muttered.

  He turned back to examine the horse, keeping out of reach of its strong jaw—which was no way to really learn anything, but he kept trying. Jacob needed to have something to ride out of there today.

  The bounty hunter’s previous horse, Paint, had been shot from under him while he was on the trail of a bank robber out in the desert. In the several days since he captured Jed Corker and turned him over to the lawful authorities, he had managed to do without a horse of his own, staying in town and going everywhere on foot.

  But now, looking at Shaw’s meager selection, Jacob wondered how much longer he could do without. It’s not that he couldn’t afford a fine horse, but more that there were none to be had. His current options were a mare that had given birth two days earlier, a Morgan that could not be younger than twenty years, or this one with the biting—Shaw called him Smoke. Jacob wondered how he’d manage to bridle the creature without losing his fingers.

  “You sure you don’t have any others for sale, Shaw?” Jacob asked, turning back to the the man.

  “Payne, I swear—”

  “Jacob Payne!” a big voice shouted from the doorway of the livery. “Anyone seen Payne?”

  “Who’s asking?” Jacob shouted back. Shielding his eyes against the sunny backdrop, Jacob made out the silhouette of a tall, thin man walking toward him. Out here in Arizona Territory, a stranger knowing his name could either be very good or very bad.

  “U.S. Marshal Owen Santos,” the man said as he approached.

  As the stranger got closer, Jacob noticed he was holding up a badge. From this distance he couldn’t make out what the badge said, but he’d heard of Santos all right.

  “I’m Jacob Payne. What can I do for you, Marshal?”

  Santos took off his hat and offered his hand to the bounty hunter. The Marshal stood taller than Jacob by several inches, which was uncommon, but was leaner than a bean pole. Jacob’s broad shoulders could probably hide the other man behind him twice over.

  He shook the marshal’s hand, then noticed Shaw awkwardly watching the interaction.

  “Have you met Caleb Shaw, Marshal?” he asked, gesturing.

  The lawman glanced at the livery owner, barely acknowledging him before turning his attention back to Jacob. “I’m gonna tell you this straight. I need your help. I can legally force you into helping, but I’d rather you come willingly.”

  Jacob was half defensive and half amused by this approach. Though he wasn’t technically a man of the law, he still respected what men like Santos had to do. “What is it you need, sir?”

  Santos let out a deep sigh and rolled his eyes. His annoyance rolled off of him in waves. “Well, seems the sheriff down in Jasper can’t do the job he was elected to do. He’s called on the marshal’s office for assistance, and all my men are out in the field.”

  “Assistance with what?”

  “Claims he’s identified a wanted murderer, one Floyd Daly. But seeing as the man is currently in the employ of the Rockville Mining Company, he’s having a devil of a time even getting close to him.”

  “You need me to go down and capture this Daly character?”

  “Oh, I don’t mind goin’ down there to collect the man myself, but I don’t dare trust the sheriff to back me up if I need it. I need a capable associate by my side if things go south. You’re the first person I thought of.”

  “Why me?”

  “All I been hearin’ these last few months is ‘Jacob Payne this’ and ‘Jacob Payne that.’ You’ve made quite the impression since you arrived in Arizona. Bonnie, in particular, seems to like the taste of your name in her mouth.”

  Jacob smiled. Bonnie, his favorite waitress at the San Xavier Cafe just a few blocks away, sure did make his visits to Tucson pleasant. But she couldn’t be the only one talking about him to the U.S. Marshal. Likely the sheriffs of Bennettsville or Valleseco—or maybe even San Adrian, if they had a new sheriff already—would be speaking well of him.

  “I’m happy to help if I can, Marshal.”

  “Much obliged. I’ll deputize you now and we’ll be on our way tomorrow morning.”

  “One problem, sir. I still don’t have a horse—”

  “Since Jed Corker shot yours? Yeah, I heard about that, too. Hanging’s too good for that one, I tell you. Well, fine.” Santos looked around the stable for the first time. “None of these?”

  Jacob hesitated. “I was hoping to be able to invest in a more reliable animal.”

  Santos nodded. “I see.” He glared at Caleb. “Well, in that case, just leave it to me. I’ll find a mount for you by tomorrow. You can’t get the thing killed, though.”

  “I’ll do my best,” Jacob said with a grin. “You have any idea why the sheriff down in Jasper can’t get his man?”

  Santos sighed. “Like I said—Daly managed to get a job working at the Vernon Copper Mine and has apparently made himself indispensable. The boss always has some excuse why he can’t be bothered or why they can’t reveal his whereabouts.”

  “All right.” Jacob considered what kind of security might be around a mine. “We’ll find a way to get to him.”

  “Damn right, we will,” Santos said vehemently. “Glad you’ll be joining me, Payne. Come on over to my office. We got a lot to do.”

  He led the way out of the livery.

  “So you won’t be taking Smoke?” Caleb asked before Jacob left.

  The bounty hunter looked at the other man, exasperated. “The horse that almost bit me? No, Caleb. Not this time.”

  Caleb nodded, while Jacob hurried to catch up with Santos and prepare to track down the outlaw Daly.

  Chapter Two

  The ride south to Jasper took two full days, the marshal cursing the town’s sheriff the whole time. The horse Santos had rounded up for Jacob before they left Tucson was sufficient, though nothing to get all that excited about.

  “His name is Yellow,” Santos had said when he met Jacob outside his hotel at dawn. “He belongs to my neighbor. I told him we’d be back within the week.”

  Jacob approached Yellow, letting the animal smell him before he climbed on. “Hey there, boy.”

  He pet the animal’s long neck and shoulder. The horse was a deep chestnut brown with white stockings on its two front feet. It was alert and gentle. But one thing it was not was yellow.

  “Yellow, huh? Please tell me he’s not called that on account of his lack of courage.”

  Santos laughed. “I couldn’t say. I guess we’ll find out.”

  Jacob grinned. At least the animal didn’t bite. “Okay, Yellow. You and me, huh?” The horse nuzzled his ear. “Yeah, I think we’ll get along just fine, Marshal.”

  “Glad to hear it, seeing as we don’t have any other options. Let’s get moving. I’d like to get as far as
we can before dark.”

  Now, more than thirty hours later, Jacob and Yellow followed closely behind Santos and his horse as they crossed over into the outskirts of Jasper.

  This was Jacob’s first visit to the town, but Santos had filled him in on the history. The town had been built up around the Vernon Copper Mine, which was run by the Rockville Mining Company. When copper was discovered there three years ago, the Vernon brothers had bought up all the claims and monopolized the area. Jasper—named after one of the brothers—was a company town, almost entirely populated by miners, with the occasional soiled dove, bartender, preacher, and a handful of other industrious business people who saw a chance to make money.

  They approached Jasper from the north, through the low hills full of scrub and cactus. The first buildings they came to were seemingly abandoned boarding houses, far from the town center. Whoever lived there, likely bachelor miners, were gone for the day. Every block or so, they’d tip their hats to the women hanging clothes out to dry, hauling water, or weeding in the small dirt yards around the clapboard houses.

  The street Santos led them through wound downhill, through the small residential area, until Jacob began to recognize what must be the main street of Jasper. He counted no fewer than three separate saloons within a four-block stretch and chuckled to himself. Maybe that’s one of the reasons the sheriff here was having so much trouble.

  “Are we going straight to the mine?” Jacob asked.

  Santos reined his horse to let Jacob catch up with him. “Not just yet. It’s far to the south of town. I figure we’ll stop by the jail and see if the sheriff has any news for us. If not, we can get us settled in a hotel and make our assault on the mine tomorrow.”

  “Assault?” Jacob grinned. “You got it, boss.”

  “That’s right—assault. Seeing as whatever pleading and reasoning Sheriff Alway has tried ain’t working, that’s probably the next step. If words don’t work, I have no problem using my gun. Which is why I brought along my temporary deputy.”

  Jacob’s grin widened. “Glad to be of service.”

  Before they began to move again, Jacob heard a plaintive voice coming from farther down the road.

  “Come on, Oscar. I don’t want to have to shoot you.”

  Santos and Jacob exchanged a quick glance before nudging their horses ahead to wherever this Oscar person was. They turned the next right corner to find a portly man, who could only be the sheriff with that gleaming badge, yanking on the arm of another man who was clearly passed out drunk in the dusty road. Even from this distance, Jacob could tell the drunk was unconscious and not able to even hear the sheriff’s commands, let alone follow them.

  “Oscar, I done told you and told you. Destroying Miss Jessie’s property is grounds for arrest. You’re gonna have to spend the night in the jail, so let’s get you there.”

  He yanked again, the other man’s dead weight barely moving a couple inches. The sheriff dropped the limp arm to the ground and fumbled for his gun.

  “Sheriff,” Santos called, his voice carrying across the distance. “You wouldn’t be getting ready to shoot an unarmed, unconscious man, would you?”

  Sheriff Alway looked up, surprised. “This man is not defenseless. He just overturned two Faro tables at Jessie’s Parlor.”

  “That may be true, but that was then. Take a look at the man now, Sheriff.” Santos dismounted and tossed his reins to Jacob. The bounty hunter watched as the marshal approached the sheriff, his right hand casually but pointedly resting on the grip of his revolver, still in its holster. “How much has this man had to drink?”

  “I really couldn’t say. I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

  “I’m U.S. Marshal Owen Santos. You might recall the name, since you wired for me to come down from Tucson to save your sorry ass.”

  That seemed to have been a magic word. As soon as Santos announced his title, Sheriff Alway grasped his hand, pumping it up and down and all but blubbering in his joy.

  “Mr. Santos! Oh, thank goodness. Yes, sir. Just as you say, I’ll not be drawing a gun on”—he nudged the man at his feet—“Mr. Tunney. We’ll get him nice and comfy in a jail cell where he can sleep it off.”

  Jacob dismounted and led the horses to where Santos was helping Alway commandeer a couple bystanders to carry the unconscious Tunney. Alway, Santos, Jacob, and their two horses followed behind two men holding up Oscar between them, crossing the street and carrying him into the Jasper jail.

  As the two bystanders carried the drunken man inside, the sheriff stayed on the boardwalk and tried to get rid of the marshal and Jacob.

  “You see, Mr. Santos, you’ve caught me at a bad time. It’s a real shame I’ve gotta process this fella now and can’t accompany you.”

  “It’s about what we expected, Alway.”

  “You boys want I should make you a map to the mine office? Mr. Farnsworth is usually there all hours of night if you want to talk to him now.”

  “I think it’s better if we head down to the mine first thing tomorrow,” Santos said.

  “It’s getting dark,” Jacob said in agreement, looking up at the sky. With Jasper situated between the hills as it was, the sun had already set half an hour earlier. The soft purple sky was quickly turning to black as stars began popping into view. “I don’t want to be caught unawares. Tomorrow would be better. Let’s find a place to sleep for the night.”

  “Just as you say. Oscar will keep a bit yet while I see to you. Come along, fellas,” Sheriff Alway said. “Let’s introduce you to Mrs. Courtland.”

  Chapter Three

  As they crossed the threshold into the three-story hotel built into the hill, a curvy blonde crossed the room to greet them, beaming. She wore a deceptively low-cut dress, with a filmy lace covering her decolletage.

  “Abby,” Sheriff Alway called. Jacob noticed he didn’t bother to remove his hat. “I’d like you to take special care of these guests of mine. This here is U.S. Marshal Santos from Tucson, and his deputy Mr. Payne.”

  Jacob doffed his hat, bowing his head slightly as he took Mrs. Courtland’s offered hand.

  “Abby Courtland,” she said with a dazzling, dimpled smile. As she bobbed her head, several curls fell forward into her face. She giggled, pushing them back with her free hand. “It’s always a joy when the sheriff brings me guests.”

  “Right, well. We’re mighty lucky they’re here.” The sheriff clapped his hand on Santos’s shoulder. “I’ll let you boys rest a bit and come see about breakfast in the morning. I can’t tell you enough how much I appreciate you being here, Marshal.”

  “Our pleasure, Sheriff. We’ll see you in the morning.”

  “I’ve got just the place for y’all,” Mrs. Courtland said. “Come upstairs with me.”

  She led the way past a young girl at the foot of the stairs who tried to catch Jacob’s eye. When she leaned toward him, he smiled politely but didn’t turn his focus from the matter at hand. The second floor of the hotel seemed just as noisy as the saloon on the ground floor, but Mrs. Courtland kept leading them farther up into the third floor. There were fewer rooms up here, with less evidence of heavy traffic.

  “No one will bother y’all up here. I hope you get a good chance to rest. Your room rate includes supper and a whiskey downstairs. I believe we’re serving stew tonight. I’ll go tell Wilbur to look for you,” she explained as she led them down the hallway. “Here’s Mr. Payne’s room.”

  She opened the room to her right and let the door swing open, stepping back to let Jacob go in first.

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  She nodded. “There’s a wash basin on the dresser, and an extra blanket at the foot of the bed. I’ll go get Mr. Santos settled and then come back to check on you,” she said, touching his arm lightly.

  Once he was left alone, Jacob tossed his bag onto the bed and looked around. The furniture was worn, scratched in some places, but solid. The floral wallpaper looked brand new. He thought about how hard it must be for M
rs. Courtland to run this business by herself, and how pleased she must have been when she had saved enough money to paper the rooms. But then, Jacob had seen many remarkable women in the west, called to do any number of remarkable things they wouldn’t have even thought to do if they had stayed in the safe cities in the eastern states. Mrs. Courtland must be one of these.

  He had just finished washing his face and hands for supper when he heard a light knock on the door. With a towel still in one hand, he opened the door to find his hostess standing there beaming at him. Something about her smile made Jacob feel like this woman was genuinely happy to see him, and not just pretending to be like she might for other guests.

  “How is everything, Mr. Payne? I see you found the towels. Did you see there’s a hook here on the back of the door for your hat or coat if you like?”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Courtland. That will be mighty helpful.”

  “Oh, call me Abby,” she said, stepping past him into the room.

  Jacob opened the door wider, glancing out into the hallway to see if anyone had seen her enter. He wouldn’t want to be a reason anyone makes assumptions about her.

  “Well, in that case, you can call me Jacob.”

  She strolled a tight circle around his room, checked the dust on top of the headboard, and returned to stand near the chair at the door. “Jacob.” She smiled at him over her shoulder. “Is there anything I can do for you? Any way I can make your stay more comfortable?”

  “No, I don’t think so. Thank you. I was just going to head down for supper.”

  “I could have supper brought up to you if you like.” She stepped closer to him; the weight of her skirt pressed against his legs and the warmth of her body crowded around him.

  “No—” Jacob cleared his throat. “No, thank you, ma’am.”