by A. T. Butler
“A duel then.”
“What?”
“That’s your other choice. Turn yourself in to me. Let me take you in safely and easily and let the law in Tucson deal with you. Or a duel and you can try to prove you’re as much of a man as you seem to think you are.”
“Right now?”
“Yep. Quick draw,” Jacob said. “If you’re as big as you think, you should have no trouble getting rid of me.”
He could see the outlaw was getting angrier and the implications that he was a coward, that he wasn’t capable of dispatching with the bounty hunter.
“You got it, boyo,” Maloney said.
The flash of fury in his eyes worried Jacob, but he knew he was quick enough with his gun that he stood a chance. It was either this, or put the safety of the Thatcher family at risk, while Jacob tried to overpower him here. Near the flame. Near the children.
No, far better to only put himself at risk in a task of skill.
Jacob was worried, but not enough to go through the alternative.
“Outside then,” he said.
It infuriated Jacob to have to leave the family tied up like this, but it was for the best. He couldn’t trust the outlaw for a split second. This was a smaller evil he would have to put up with to defeat the larger evil of the man himself.
Instead, Jacob met Mr. Thatcher’s eyes. “I’ll be back. As soon as this is dealt with I’ll come back and free you. I just need y’all to stay calm. Trust me.”
The man nodded, his wife sniffed back a tear. Jacob took a deep breath and turned the whole of his attention back to Maloney.
Jacob picked up the lamp himself, bending down without taking his eyes off of Maloney. He backed out of the barn door, lamp held in front of him with one hand, with the gun in the other.
“Twenty paces,” Maloney said. “Then you die.”
“Twenty paces,” Jacob agreed. “Then we’ll see.”
The expanse of dirt between the barn and the home was plenty big enough to hold their duel. Keeping his eye on the outlaw, Jacob walked to roughly the center and set the lamp down. That single point of light would be between them. Neither man would have better light or a better chance to aim than the other. Jacob knew the only reason Maloney was agreeing to any of this was to prove he wasn’t a coward, so weighting the circumstances in either direction would get a protestation.
Both men were loath to turn their backs on the other.
“Holster your gun,” Jacob said.
“You first,” Maloney countered.
Jacob shook his head, but returned the revolver to his hip. A quick draw duel required the gun being drawn after all. Maloney, for his part, did the same. Jacob held his breath the entire several seconds until the outlaw’s hand was off of his gun. Both men walked their twenty paces away from each other before facing off again.
Jacob waited. He let his eyes adjust to the dim light. It was now well after sunset, and they only had the small lamp between them to illuminate. He could see well enough to make out Maloney’s shape. That’s all he needed. The color of his shirt or the sweep of his mustache was unimportant in a situation like this.
He could make out some of Maloney’s movements. The darkness, the shadows, it all played tricks on his eyes. And still he waited. He would not be the first to shoot.
Jacob heard the swish of gun being pulled out of leather, he heard click of Maloney’s gun firing. Without even giving himself time to think, Jacob fired in return.
He braced himself for another bullet wound, but none came.
Instead, he saw the faint outline of Seamus Maloney collapse into the dirt.
Jacob froze momentarily. Though he knew he was a good shot, he hadn’t for a second believed he was invincible. The fact that he had felled Maloney and yet not gotten hit himself was shocking enough to give him pause. Of course, Jacob reminded himself with a hand to his abdomen. He had already been shot earlier that day.
He cautiously walked the several yards to where Maloney was in the dirt. The outlaw writhed only a little. When Jacob was standing over him, the other man looked up.
“I’m not a coward,” he said weakly.
The pool of blood around the outlaw’s body spread rapidly. The last breath left his body and his head dropped to one side.
It was done.
For the first time since he came to the west, Jacob had killed a man while trying to bring him to justice. Now he was what he had always guarded against. He was a man who killed for money.
Jacob crouched down in the dirt and with one hand closed the eyes of the deceased.
Chapter Fifteen
Once Jacob had untied the Thatcher family, seen to the wounds of the children and to the handling of Maloney’s body, he didn’t have any energy to go back to town that night. Mrs. Thatcher insisted that he stay the night and he had no objection. He had promised himself a rest, after all, and tonight was a good time to start.
The body of Seamus Maloney was bundled up in a homespun tarp that the Thatchers had on hand. When Jacob had protested using their property, Mrs. Thatcher scolded him.
“We could very well be gone and never use this again if it weren’t for you, Mr. Payne. This piece of cloth is replaceable. Please let us give this to you. Let us help in this small way.”
Jacob had let her, and Mr. Thatcher had helped him roll the body in the cloth, and place it in the far corner of the barn.
Jacob had gratefully accepted a full dinner from Mrs. Thatcher, as well as the cot in the pantry from George. Given his fitful night of rest the night before, and the exertions of the day, it’s no wonder that Jacob slept soundly well after sunrise.
But he didn’t stay long. The bounty hunter needed to get back to Tucson and deal with the repercussions of the outlaw’s capture. The next morning, Thatcher helped Jacob place the corpse over the saddle of Maloney’s horse, securing it tightly for the transport back into the city. Jacob said good-bye to the family, making special care to praise George for his actions and make sure the girls were alright after the trauma they had suffered.
The ride back to Tucson felt much longer than the ride to Haven had. The horse following with the body draped over it seemed to stay in his mind despite the fact that he never looked at it.
He had been so proud of his record of never having killed a man while seeking a bounty, but now he could no longer say that. Of course, Jacob knew his actions were wholly defensible. It had been a fair duel and Maloney had been given every chance, more than once. But this was a line that could never be uncrossed.
Jacob and Blaze arrived in Tucson just before noon and the hottest part of the day. He went straight to the coroner with Maloney’s body. Jacob needed to take that step and begin to move past it. He could tell Santos about it later, and claim his reward.
Although Jacob didn’t feel right about taking money for killing a man, he understood that sometimes this was part of the job. He wasn’t sure how he would spend the rest of the day. Maybe have the doctor take a look at his wound. Maybe just go to the saloon for a drink. Whatever he did, Jacob hoped Santos didn’t have any pressing jobs for him at that moment.
As Jacob was exiting the coroner’s office, a familiar figure exited the storefront opposite.
The woman carried a basket full of onions that she was rummaging in as she walked not looking where she was going. Jacob hurried across the street to catch her before she stumbled right off the boardwalk.
“Be careful, miss,” he said, quietly enough that only she could hear.
Bonnie Loft’s face lit up with joy when she noticed who was offering her his hand.
“Why! Jacob! You’re back, already?”
He nodded.
“What’s wrong?”
She could sense a difference in him just in those few short seconds. Jacob smiled, grateful for her compassion and her attention.
“Oh, you know. Every case is hard in it’s own way. I’ll be alright.”
She smiled in return.
“It’s
good to see you,” he continued.
“Thank you.”
“I’d like to see you again.”
“Again? Right now?”
“Are you on your way home? Let me walk you there.”
She nodded demurely, and he took the basket from her. The walk to her boarding house wasn’t long, certainly not enough for him to explain to her everything that had happened or what seeing her now had meant to him. All he could do was hope she was available for future plans. Tomorrow. And the day after that. And after that and after that forever.
“Well. Here we are,” she said when they reached the building.
“Bonnie, I want to say something.”
“Oh?”
He set the basket down at their feet and took both of her small hands in his.
“You’ve been the best part of my life here in Tucson.”
“Oh … I … “
“Wait. Please. I need you to know what your friendship these last few months has meant to me. When I first arrived, I was angry and lost and probably sometimes took risks I shouldn’t have. But now, with your compassion and attention, I find myself wanting to be a better person. Bonnie, if … if it’s alright with you, I’d like to court you in earnest.”
The smile that broke across her face could only be heartfelt and genuine. There was no faking a look like that. “I’m honored,” she said.
Jacob took her in his arms for the first time. The way she fit against his body felt as though they had been made for each other.
Bonnie lifted her face to his. He took her cheek in one hand, with his other arm wrapped around her waist, leaned down, and kissed her softly on the lips.
When he pulled his face away, she was blushing.
“Jacob…”
“I know. I should have asked. But, Bonnie, I’ve been waiting to do that for weeks. Coming home after that trek, knowing you were here waiting for me is the best thing that has happened to me in a long time.”
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The next book in the Jacob Payne adventure — Desert Rage — is available for preorder!
Someone is after Jacob
When the Slippery Stone outlaw gang get caught up in a bank robbery, Jacob realizes just capturing the guilty parties won't be enough.
If you love classic westerns full of romance and action, you’ll love Jacob Payne.
Jacob Payne Series:
Trouble By Any Name
Danger in the Canyon
Justice for Jasper
Blood on the Mountain
Outlaw Country
Death By Grit
Desert Rage
Jacob Payne Box Set: Books 1-3
About the Author
I grew up in the southwest—California Missions, snakes and constant threat of drought weaving the backdrop of my childhood.
But it wasn’t until I moved to Texas a few years ago that the magic and mythology of the American West began to seep into my soul.
I’d love to write about Jacob Payne for a long time. …
If you enjoyed this book, a review on your favorite retailer would be greatly appreciated.
- A
Death By Grit is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright 2019 by A.T. Butler
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
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