Righteous Kill

by G. Michael Hopf

  “You, Joe?” Henry asked.

  “Similar to Gus,” Joseph said.

  “That’s right, you two knew each other before,” Henry said.

  “I met Joseph three months ago. We’ve been riding together since,” Gus said.

  “What did you do before that?” Henry asked Joe.

  Sitting up, Joe snapped, “Enough of the damn fool questions.”

  Henry recoiled from the response. “I was just curious.”

  “Curious like a damn fool woman, always asking questions, wanting to get to know you more. Well, I don’t care to share,” Joseph said. He hopped to his feet, grabbed his underwear, and slipped them on. “We’re going with you.”

  “You want to go into town even though there might be a posse looking for you?” Harry asked, shocked that Joseph seemed unconcerned.

  “There ain’t no posse looking for us,” Joseph said.

  “And how do you know that?” Harry asked, finding it hard to believe.

  “On account those women never got a look at us, and for the fact that I told the mother that if anyone muttered a damn word, I’d come back and kill her precious children. I always found a credible threat to be a good deterrent.”

  “And you really think your threats will be heeded?” Harry asked.

  “What if you’re wrong?” Henry asked.

  “Henry’s right,” Gus said.

  “Don’t be cowards. Get your clothes on; we ride into town,” Joseph said. He picked up his trousers and pulled them on, followed by his shirt and vest. When he began to button his vest, he noticed his watch was missing. Startled, he looked all around on the ground around him but didn’t find it. “Have any of you seen my watch?”

  “I didn’t know you had a watch,” Henry said.

  “You lost your father’s gold watch?” Gus asked. He knew about the watch and knew just how much Joseph cherished it.

  Frantic now, Joseph traced his path to the water, his eyes scanning the ground. “No, no, no.”

  “Maybe you left it at the house,” Harry snarled.

  “If I did, I’m riding back to get it,” Joseph said, making his way to his horse.

  “No, we’re not going back to the house,” Harry snapped.

  “If I can’t find my watch, I damn sure am,” Joseph said.

  “This time I agree with Harry. We’re not going back to the house, and I suggest you don’t do it either. It was just an old watch. After this job you’ll be able to buy yourself a new one,” Gus said.

  “You know how much I love that watch,” Joseph barked as he searched around the hitched horses.

  “Joe, I’m with Gus and Harry. It would be a mistake to go back to the house. I don’t think we’d get two feet without getting shot,” Henry said. “Plus those women are tough. You threatened to kill them, and they never gave up where they had any money hidden away. If we go back now, they’ll put holes in us.” He slipped on his trousers and sauntered to his horse.

  “Joseph, the other fellas are right. It’s risky enough for us to be riding into town, but to have you going back to that house on a hunch, that’s too much for us to agree to. If you left the watch there, count it as the price paid for that night.”

  “Damn it!” Joseph yelled as he continued his search.

  “It’s just a watch,” Gus said.

  “No, it’s not, it’s not just a watch. It has…” Joseph said before cutting himself off.

  “It has?” Harry asked.

  “Nothing, never mind,” Joseph said. He grunted his displeasure then kicked a rock.

  Gus and Henry arrived at the horses.

  “If there is a posse looking out for you all, we’d best get going now,” Harry said.

  All dressed from their swim, Harry and Henry climbed onto their horses. Gus pulled his horse around to face Joseph, who stood next to his with his head resting against the saddle. “What’s the matter?”

  Shaking his head, Joseph said, “Nothing is the matter. That watch meant a lot to me.” He got on his horse and took the reins. “I’m gonna get that watch back, I promise you. One day, I’ll go back and get that watch.”

  SOUTH OF GREAT FALLS, MONTANA

  Martha held out her hand, and in it was a gold pocket watch.

  Alice stared at it and said, “You took it from him?”

  Martha nodded.

  “Can I see it?”

  Martha again nodded.

  Alice picked up the watch. She ran her thumb across the glass face. Seeing the time on it, she glanced up at the clock on their wall and confirmed it was not set right. “I think it needs to be wound.” She turned the crown until it stopped. Examining the face, she saw the second hand begin to tick. “There, it’s working,” she said with a faint smile. “You have something of value for all the trouble last night.” She handed the watch back to Martha.

  Martha shook her head and said, “I don’t want it.”

  “Why not? It’s a gold watch; it’s worth something.”

  “No.”

  “The watch is just a thing. It won’t hurt you,” Alice said, holding the watch out.

  “No,” Martha insisted.

  “You really don’t want it?”

  “No, I don’t. It’s not mine, and every time I read his name on the back, I’ll see his face.”

  “Name on the back?” Alice asked.

  “Yes, it’s right there,” Martha said, taking the watch, flipping it over, and pointing at the back.

  Alice leaned close and squinted. “Where?”

  Martha pointed closer and said, “It’s faint, but his name is right there.”

  The faint light of the day caught the watch just right and allowed her to see the name etched in the back. “I see it.”

  “You see, I can’t keep it; he even has his name on it. I want to forget last night and forget his face; now I have to forget his name,” Martha seethed, her previous sorrow replaced with a brewing anger.

  “I’ll hold on to it for you, then. When I have a chance, I’ll sell it and give you the money. How does that sound?” Alice asked, hoping Martha would agree.

  “I don’t care what you do with it. I don’t want to ever see it again,” Martha said. She pressed her eyes closed tightly and continued, “My head hurts. I’m going to go rest.”

  “You’re just tired is all. You should get some rest.”

  Martha got up and headed across the creaking floor to Alice’s bedroom door.

  “I love you,” Alice said.

  Martha stopped, turned and said, “I love you too.”

  “Go get some rest. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

  “If I get scared, can I sleep with you?”

  “Of course,” Alice replied, her heart aching. Poor Martha was so different than she was. In her was a tenderness, a sweet and gentle person who was now confronted with the evils of the world at such a young age. She prayed it didn’t affect the rest of her life, but knew it probably would.

  Martha left the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

  Alone, Alice took the watch to the window to catch the last bit of daylight. She angled the watch so the sun’s rays caught the etching on the back and read out loud, “Joseph Paul King.”

  MISSOULA, MONTANA

  Billy waited outside the telegram office, atop his horse, waiting for Hemsworth, who was inside the telegram office.

  Slouched in his saddle, Al snickered and sneered, mumbling random things to Billy.

  “How old are you?” Al asked.

  Billy ignored Al. He was growing impatient with how long it was taking Hemsworth. They had spent the greater part of the day preparing for the journey, which they estimated would take eight days to ride at the pace they’d have to go.

  Al gave Billy a glance and sneered, “So young.”

  “Just shut your mouth,” Billy fired back. He’d heard about all he could take from Al, and the thought of beating Al senseless popped into his mind more than once.

  “It’s really sad, you know,” Al said
.

  “I said shut up,” Billy ordered.

  Ignoring Billy, Al continued with his taunts. “Yep, very sad for such a young lad to end up six feet under. How about you just take off these shackles and let me go?” Al lifted his arms and shook; the irons clanged.

  “I should take those off and beat you with them,” Billy barked.

  “Boy, we’re not going to make it to wherever you’re taking me, you gotta know that,” Al said.

  “You know something, Bob, or whatever your name is, I’d just as soon take you just outside town and hang you from the first tree we encounter, then tell whoever that you tried to escape and we had to put a bullet in the back of your head.”

  Al shook his head and began to chuckle. “You really don’t know the mess you’re in, do ya?”

  “Why don’t you enlighten me?” Billy said, trotting over next to Al. He grimaced upon looking at his deeply bruised face. “Damn, the butt of my rifle did a number on your noggin.”

  “I’ll pay you back for that too once I’m out of these irons here,” Al said, again shaking the shackles vigorously.

  Billy leaned forward on the saddle horn and whispered, “Keep running your piehole and I’ll put another hole in your damn forehead.”

  “You really don’t know who I am, do you?” Al asked.

  Curious about the statement made by Al, Billy declared, “Why don’t you tell me?”

  Al’s eyes widened. “You don’t, do you?”

  Hemsworth exited the telegram office, a piece of paper in his hand. “This keeps getting odder by the moment.”

  “What did it say?” Billy asked.

  Hemsworth went to reply but stopped short when he caught Al leaning forward to listen. “Come closer.”

  Billy trotted over to Hemsworth and lowered his head.

  Whispering, Hemsworth said, “They gave us a specific route to take, and get this, they want us to stop in Great Falls. There, we’ll receive another telegram telling us where to go next.”

  “I’ve never heard of such a thing,” Billy said, ensuring to keep his voice down.

  “Me either, but I suppose there’s a first for everything,” Hemsworth said.

  “And nothing else? What are they thinking back in Idaho?” Billy asked.

  “This telegram wasn’t from our office in Idaho. This came from the United States Attorney’s office in San Francisco,” Hemsworth said.

  “Damn it, Eric, something is off about this, I’m telling you; I don’t like it, not one bit,” Billy growled.

  “I hear ya, but we need to keep our heads down and do what we’re told,” Hemsworth said. He folded the paper and shoved it in his inside jacket pocket. He looked to the sky and said, “An hour before it’s dark; let’s get on our way and get a few hours’ ride in before we bed down for the night.”

  “Good idea. The sooner we’re done with him and this entire situation, the better I’ll feel,” Billy said.

  Hemsworth strode to his horse and mounted it. As he settled into the saddle, the leather creaking as he did, Al began to laugh. Looking over his shoulder, Hemsworth asked, “What do you find so humorous?”

  “That I’m looking at two dead men and they don’t even know it.” Al chuckled.

  “Dead men?” Hemsworth asked.

  “Don’t listen to him. He’s been saying mindless things since you walked into the telegraph office,” Billy said.

  “I thought this young one was ignorant; now I see you are too,” Al said.

  Hemsworth pulled his horse around until it was side by side with Al’s. “Now why would you be so rude? You do know we’re escorting you across some rough terrain; there’s no sayin’ what might happen.”

  “Now that is humorous. You’re not going to do anything to me, nothin’,” Al spat.

  “I’ve had to use everything in my power to talk my partner down from killing you, so I’d suggest you keep your mouth closed and show some respect,” Hemsworth said.

  “Marshal, are you a gambling man?” Al asked.

  “I wager now and then,” Hemsworth replied.

  “Good, how about making a wager with me?” Al said.

  Disgusted by Al’s contempt, Billy shook his head.

  “And what would this wager be about?” Hemsworth asked.

  “On when you two die. I say it will be in…two days. Yep, two days from now I’ll be looking down on your corpses.”

  Hemsworth rolled his eyes and trotted away from Al.

  “Is that a no?” Al asked.

  “Al, are you going to be talking the entire time we ride?” Hemsworth asked.

  “I do like to have conversation. My mother always said I was a talker,” Al answered.

  Hemsworth shot Billy a look and nodded.

  Knowing exactly what he wanted, Billy said, “Gladly.” He rode up alongside Al, pulled out a handkerchief, and stuffed it into Al’s mouth.

  Al shook his head and tried to spit out the handkerchief, but Billy took out another from his saddlebag, wrapped it around Al’s face, and secured it tightly. Al’s eyes bulged in anger and he squirmed in the saddle.

  “If you get too jumpy, you’ll fall out of the saddle. Then we’ll have to tie a rope around you and pull you along on foot,” Billy warned with a smile.

  Al mumbled loudly.

  “Please fall off the horse, please,” Billy said.

  “Al, he’s right. If you get out of line, I’ll have you walk the next few hours,” Hemsworth warned.

  Taking the men seriously, Al settled down. He shot Billy a hard look and mumbled something unintelligible.

  Smiling ear to ear, Billy said, “Peace and quiet.”

  “You ready?” Hemsworth asked.

  “I am,” Billy said.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  JULY 10, 1895

  SOUTH OF GREAT FALLS, MONTANA

  “Alice, get down here now!” Maggie bellowed from the front room of the house.

  In her room, Alice heard her mother’s call and sighed. She could hear an angry tone in her mother’s voice, and it could only mean one thing: she was out of whiskey.

  “Alice, get down here this instant!” Maggie barked from the bottom of the stairs.

  “Coming!” Alice replied. She put her book down and went to her bedroom door. She paused when she saw the watch sitting on her nightstand. Her mind went to Martha, and she was curious as to why she hadn’t slept with her like she’d hinted she wanted to do.

  “Alice!” Maggie shrieked.

  Throwing open the door, Alice snapped back, “I’m coming, Ma.”

  “Why don’t you answer when I call out the first time, huh?” Maggie sneered.

  “I did; you just didn’t hear me,” Alice said, racing down the stairs.

  “Don’t give me sass, girl,” Maggie said, clenching Alice’s forearm. She squeezed and said, “Where’s your sister?”

  “If she’s not down here, then I suppose she’s still in bed. I haven’t seen her since waking,” Alice answered.

  “Damn girl sleeps all the time,” Maggie complained.

  “Ma, what do you want?”

  “I need you to go into town and get some items.”

  “Let me guess, whiskey is one of them?” Alice snarked.

  Maggie cocked her hand back but stopped short of striking Alice. “Don’t be smart with me.”

  “Go ahead, Ma, hit me. Soon I’ll be eighteen and I’ll hit you back,” Alice threatened.

  Stunned by Alice’s sharp response, Maggie said, “You ain’t eighteen yet, and no matter what your age, you don’t sass your mother.”

  Alice sneered and thought to herself that Maggie was the furthest thing from actually being a mother.

  “You know where the money is. Go to the merc and get a pound of flour, a half pound of pork belly, and a half-dozen eggs. Then go to Singer’s and get me two bottles; you know what I like.”

  Alice nodded.

  “Now go, hurry. I want to make some beans for dinner.”

  “You’re making dinn
er?” Alice asked, surprised.

  “Girl, you’re this close to getting a beating,” Maggie said, holding up two fingers.

  Alice sauntered to the kitchen and pulled out the tin that held what money the family had. She fished through it and took out what she’d need. She pocketed it and headed out the front. There she saw Anne sitting in her chair, rocking back and forth. “Good morning, Grandma.”

  “Good mornin’, doll face. Where’s your little sister?” Anne asked.

  “Still sleeping, I think,” Alice replied. “I’m off to town. Do you need anything?”

  “I’m fine. Be safe.”

  Maggie appeared with a small-framed revolver in her hand. She extended her hand with the pistol in it, the grip facing Alice. “Take this with you.”

  “You want me to take Pa’s old pistol?” Alice asked. She’d never ridden to town armed before, but after what had transpired, she welcomed the ability to carry a weapon.

  “Go ahead, take it. One can never be too safe,” Maggie said.

  Alice took the pistol, admired it for a second, then slipped it into a pocket on her skirt. “Thank you, Ma.”

  “See, your ma ain’t so mean, is she?” Anne asked.

  Alice replied with a simple smile. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “Don’t dawdle,” Maggie said.

  “I won’t, Ma, I promise,” Alice said, turned and raced towards the barn.

  LINCOLN, MONTANA

  Billy glanced back to see Al leering at him. “Hot damn, if looks could kill, I’d be dead as a doornail.”

  Hemsworth craned his head back and chuckled. “You aren’t joking.”

  “I don’t think Al likes us much,” Billy quipped as he lifted his head to the sky and soaked up the sun’s warm rays. “Ah, feels good.”

  Al mumbled through the gag they kept him in. Every time they removed it for him to eat or drink, he’d immediately start swearing and making threats. Unable and unwilling to listen to him, they just kept the gag in his mouth.

  “I bet he didn’t get a good night’s sleep last night,” Billy said with a snicker.

  “Being tied to a boulder, sitting up, with your handkerchief stuffed in his mouth doesn’t make for comfortable conditions,” Hemsworth said.