by Mike McNeff
The saloon was filled with dust and gun smoke. The acrid smell of burnt gunpowder hung with a moment of reverberating gunfire. It was replaced with an eerie silence, laced with the whimpering of Rich Delton. He threw his gun out on the floor in front of the bar. “I don’t want no fight, Mr. Lee. Please don’t kill me!”
“Did you kill my pa and brothers?” Jasper drew his other Colt and stuck the empty one in his belt, which he reloaded with his left hand while covering Delton with his other pistol.
Delton didn’t answer right away. Then he said, “Yes,” in the form of a sob. “I shot one of your brothers...but I wasn’t the only one. I don’t know if my shot killed him.”
“Did you rape Claire Dolan?”
“Oh, God!” Delton moaned. He was crying loudly now. I had a turn with her, but almost everyone else did too. But I had nothin’ to do with killin’ her. That was all Bart Moore. He went crazy over her and just kept cuttin’ away with his knife. It made me sick, Mr. Lee, honest.”
“Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you.”
“Because he’s under arrest,” another voice interrupted. “And you’ll be too if you don’t holster that gun.”
Jasper looked over his shoulder and saw Stan Barstow, the Lowell Town Marshal, gun in hand. “I got no quarrel with you, Marshal, but I guess you heard what he said. Natural law demands I kill him.”
“In this town the law of the territory is followed. He’ll be brought to justice for his crimes. Now get both those guns into their holsters.”
Jasper slowly rose from behind the bar and put his guns away. Frustration worked his gut.
The marshal walked over to the other end of the bar and picked Delton up by the collar. “You’re under arrest, Rich Delton, for kidnapping, rape and murder.” The marshal locked a set of manacles on Delton’s wrists. “Please follow me to the jail, Mr. Lee. I’ll need a statement from you.”
Sandy James approached the marshal. “I saw the whole thing, Marshal. The three men Jasper shot all drew on him first...he was just a lot faster.”
The marshal nodded. “You come too and give a statement.”
After Jasper and Sandy had given their statements, the marshal had some advice for Jasper.
“Mr. Lee, Delton identified everyone involved in the killing of your kin and the rape and murder of the girl. I’ll be sending a report to the county prosecutor. I expect he’ll have warrants issued shortly. You best leave this to the law to handle.”
“Thanks for your work, Marshal.”
“And one more thing. I’m not doin’ much about the shooting in Tully Valley Delton told me about, just because he can’t say who did it. The location is out of my jurisdiction too. But I’d tread carefully if I were you. This man, Bart Moore, is kin to the governor of this territory. Nephew, I think. You didn’t hear this from me but the governor isn’t exactly an honest politician, if there is such a thing. In fact, he may just be one of the worst.”
“I appreciate your concern. Marshal, I’d be obliged if’n you sent a message home that I buried Claire Dolan near where the posse was ambushed, in the boulders across from Arlington Creek. I gave her a decent burial in a nice area. It’s up to the family, but tell ‘em it’d be better to leave her rest there. ”
“I’ll take care of it.”
Jasper and Sandy left the marshal’s office and headed over to Kate’s Cafe for dinner.
“What you goin’ to do now, Jasper, head for Kentville?”
“No, I saw the trail of four riders who ran before Stewart and Delton, heading northwest. I’m goin’ to pick up that trail.”
“You’ll be headin’ into Indian country!”
Jasper nodded. “I got no quarrel with the clan.”
“Yeah, but they might not feel the same.”
“I have friends there.”
“Black Feather?”
“He’s a good friend.”
“Maybe. I think you’re the only white man he ever respected, but I ain’t sure he counts you as his friend.”
Jasper emptied his cup. “He does.”
Sandy looked at Jasper and shook his head. “If’n you say so.”
CHAPTER FIVE
GALE PULLED HARD on the rope attached to the bucket, hand over hand, drawing water from the well. It was apt for her name to be spelled like a storm. Her fiery red hair matched her temperament. The well sat in the middle of the ranch yard behind the house, with the large barn and corrals on one side and the chicken coup and pig sty on the other. Three mares and four geldings stood in the corrals, some hens made their bok-bok and screech as they bobbed around the coop, a large red rooster lording over them. Black and white spotted pigs slept in the mud to protect themselves from the mid-morning sun.
“Brenden, you get over here young man!”
Twelve year old Brenden slumped in submission and walked over to his mother.
“Just because your pa’s gone for a while don’t mean you can shirk your chores. You get to cleanin’ out the barn b’fore I tan your backside like a cow’s hide.”
“Oh, Ma, I should’a gone with pa. He needs me to help him kill those men who killed grandpa.”
Gale grabbed her son by the shoulders, the water bucket left to plummet to the depths of the well. The tears streaming down her cheeks only stoked the fire in her heart.
“You listen to me, Brenden Lee. It’s bad enough I’ve got to worry about your pa gone three days with no word! I won’t let you run off with a gun in your hand and drive me crazy waitin’ for you to come home in a wooden box, too.”
Brenden looked into his mother’s eyes and squeezed her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Ma. I’ll get the barn done.” He went to the barn, looking back and forcing a smile before he went in.
Gale slowly sat down on the well wall, holding her face in her hands, her worry over Jasper bursting the dam of the brave face she tried to put on, unleashing a river of tears.
“Pa will be all right, Ma. There’s nobody stronger or tougher than him.”
Gale looked into the gentle blue eyes of her daughter, Megan. Younger Abbey stood behind her. Gale pulled them into her arms, kissing them on the cheek. “Thank the Lord I have you two and your brothers.”
“We love you, Ma.”
Gale gave her daughters a squeeze and then stood, straightening her split gingham skirt. She looked at the bucket rope, sighed, and then started pulling up water again.”
“Hello the ranch!” Gale recognized Micah Niles’ voice. She turned to see Burt Ashton with him. She wrapped the rope around a stay bar. “Hello gentlemen, what brings you here?”
“Mornin’, Gale,” Micah greeted her. “Jasper asked us to check on you every now and again, to see if we could help you at all.”
Gale wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. “That’s neighborly of you. If you have the time I’d appreciate if you’d ride out and help Sean check on our herd. I haven’t been able to get out there for a couple of days.”
“We’ll do that. Do you have any heavy liftin’ that needs doin’?”
“I believe the boys and I can handle most of the liftin’ around here.”
“All right then. We’ll head out to the herd.”
“Thank you, kindly.”
“One more thing, Gale. There’s a meetin’ in town tomorrow about appointin’ a new sheriff until we can hold an election. You should consider being there.”
“I got no interest in political things.”
“There’s talk of appointin’ Jasper as sheriff. You might want to come and give some idea on what he would think about that.”
Gale stood stunned and silent for a good minute before words found their way out of her mouth. “I’ll give some thought to it, Micah.”
The men tipped their hats and rode out toward the summer range of the Lee ranch.
“Gale Lee is quite a handsome woman,” Burt Ashton observed as he scratched his bushy beard.
Micah chuckled. “I’ve known Gale since we was kids. She is indeed a handsome woman,
if you like hurricanes.”
“So, she’s strong willed I take it.”
“I’ll say Jasper Lee is just about the only man I believe could handle her and I estimate it’s just barely.”
Burt smiled and shook his head. “Better him than me.”
Micah looked at his friend. “I reckon so.”
They rode in silence for awhile enjoying the new warmth and the fragrance of the pine and wild roses brought by spring.
“They certainly have made this into a fine ranch,” Burt observed.
“Well, they work hard and Jasper is a fair and shrewd businessman. I don’t know anyone who won’t do business with him. I’ve been involved with some deals with him and I can say we both made very good money.”
“How did you come to do business with him?”
“I wanted to take a herd to market and I wanted someone I could trust with me on the drive. Well, Jasper was takin’ his herd to market at the same time, so we joined up. He’d already studied the market and knew what beef was goin’ for in Chicago, so when we got down to sellin’ the cattle he negotiated a damn good price. So now, we always go together.”
“How did he know the price in Chicago?”
“He has a friend from his Army days who sends him the price by telegraph. Jasper gets the price before the market here does.”
“He is indeed a shrewd man.”
“He is and has been a good friend to me.”
“An interesting man for a gunfighter.”
“I wouldn’t call him a gunfighter. I’d call him a man who fights for the things he believes in.”
Sean Lee had spent the last ten minutes using his Bowie knife to cut a bawling calf out of tangled brush. He got most of it cut away in front of the calf and slapped its hind quarter with his hat. The calf jumped, freeing himself and running off to his mother. Sean smiled.
He mounted his horse, taking a deep breath of mountain spring air. He scanned around him and saw two riders coming toward him in the distance. He pulled his Winchester out of the scabbard, resting the butt of the stock on his thigh to show he was armed. The men still came on.
Sean lowered the rifle to the crook of his arm, levered a round into the chamber and at the ready until he recognized Micah Niles and Burt Ashton. He lowered the hammer and put the rifle back in the scabbard.
“Not takin’ any chances, are you, Sean?” Micah pulled his horse to a stop.
“Not since Grandpa and my uncles were murdered, Mr. Niles.”
“Can’t say I blame you. Your Ma asked us to help you check on the herd.”
“I appreciate that. I need to get over to Grandpa’s place and check the herd there. I only have this hill in back of me left to check for any of the herd that may be stuck in the brush. If we can spread out and work it, we can get it done in no time at all.”
“Let’s do her,” Burt said.
“I’ll take the top,” Sean offered and started up the hill. When he reached the top he cut right and leaned forward in the saddle so he could look over the tall brush. He was thankful for the cowhide chaps protecting his legs.
It only took twenty minutes to clear the hill and roust four head of cattle along with two covey of quail. Sean joined the others at the bottom of the hill.
“Thank you, Mr. Niles and Mr. Ashton. I appreciate it.”
“Glad to help, Sean. Your herd is lookin’ good.”
“Yes, sir, it is. The summer feedin’ should make them filled out enough to bring a handsome price at the market.”
“You drivin’ with your Pa again this year?”
“Oh, yes, sir.”
“Good. It’s always good to have you along, Sean. You’re a top hand.”
“Thank you, Mr. Niles. I best be gettin’ to Grandpa’s.”
“Need any help there?”
“No, sir. I cleared it two days ago. I’m just doing a check today.”
Micah nodded. “We’ll see you later.”
Micah and Burt started back for their homes.
“That boy is the spittin’ image of his pa,” Burt observed.
“That’s a fact and in more ways than looks. He was a hard workin’ cowboy on the cattle drive last year. Jasper took a lot of time to teach him the ways of the trail…and of men.”
“I hope he tempered his view of men a bit.”
Micah laughed. “Not likely. Sean will grow up to be as good a man as Jasper…probably just as hard.”
“I don’t think that’s good for a boy. The world is a changin’ and hard men won’t be welcome in time.”
“Maybe, because a lot of folks are fearful of a man who ain’t afraid. But I think bad men will always be around and hard men will always be needed to rein ‘em in.”
Burt nodded. “Ya got a point there, but I’ll bet Gale don’t like what Sean’s learnin’. No mother would.”
“That’s probably true. I imagine she’s worried enough about Jasper and she’ll definitely worry about Sean if he straps on six guns.”
“Well, let’s hope it don’t get to that.”
“More than likely it will.”
CHAPTER SIX
JASPER RODE FOR TWO HOURS before he crossed into Indian country. He started before sunrise as he knew he had to make up some time. Sandy tried to come along with him but Jasper insisted he could take care of these four by himself. He followed their trail with no trouble. The tracks showed they had ridden their horses into the ground and they had to dismount for a time. Jasper smiled to himself. He learned many years ago that getting too much in a hurry causes more trouble than any hurrying is worth.
An hour later he came on Indian Jack’s place. Jack was a cantankerous old man, half-Indian, with three daughters. His wife had long ago gone to the spirit world. He ran a herd of horses he pulled wild off the open range and broke to sell. He also ran a herd of cattle he populated with range cows and a little rustling here and there. The trail of the four men lead to Jack’s ramshackle house.
Jasper spent ten minutes looking the area over from a hill to the east of the ranch house. The morning was bright and cool. Jack’s ranch sat in a saddle of land surrounded by deep green mountain grass and capped with tree lined foothills. Jasper’s eyes searched every visible nook and corner. A few cows grazed near the back of the house, but a bad feeling snaked through his gut when he saw corral gate wide open with no horses inside. Nothing moved, except cow tails swatting flies, so he started for the house. The only sounds were the thump of Coal’s hooves and the creak of saddle leather. A cow lifted her spotted head and mooed when Jasper reined Coal to a stop.
“Easy, Bessie. It’s just me.” Jasper knew the cows were disturbed by the same smell his nostrils caught…the smell of decomposing flesh. He stood on his stirrups and saw a thick patch of flies just past a stack of hay. Jack’s body lay in a crumpled heap just on the other side.
Jasper hit the ground fast and hurried over to Jack. He had been dead for at least a day, maggots already doing their work. Jasper stopped counting bullet holes when he got to ten. Drawing a Colt he went to the front door of the house.
“Hello the house!”
No answer.
He kicked the door open then quickly moved off to the right. He looked into the main room from there, then crossed over to check from the left before he stepped inside.
The kitchen table was flipped on its side. Jasper picked up the leg that had broken off. Two wooden chairs and a stool lay smashed next to the wall separating the living area from the bedrooms. Pieces of crockery were strewn everywhere. A torn woman’s shirt straddled the door that led to the sleeping room. Inside he discovered a skirt that had been ripped from waist to hem and a hand woven blanket on one of the beds had a good sized stain on it the brownish-red color of dried blood. There were no other bodies. Jasper hoped Jack’s daughters had been able to escape but he figured the men had probably kidnapped them.
He went back outside and set to the task of preparing Indian Jack for the spirit world. He found the best of Jack’s c
lothes he could, clean buckskin pants and a buckskin shirt with a breast plate of red and blue beads forming the Circle of Life. Bands of matching beads circled the cuffs.
After washing Jack’s body, Jasper dressed the old man. Then he found Jack’s best blanket, one made by his wife before she died and wrapped him in it, except for his head, so he could see the spirits when they came to lead him to the campfires in the sky. Jasper did the spirit dance around Jack’s body, chanting, calling the spirits to come so they might grant him passage into the spirit world. Then he carried Jack to the large oak tree in front of the house and laid him in the crook of the tree so the spirits would find him.
When he finished Jasper mounted Coal and continued on the trail until the sun sought the horizon. Angling up an incline to a rock face, he stopped at a shallow cave at the foot of the cliff. He dismounted and set up camp. Then he brushed, fed and watered Coal.
Later, Jasper sipped coffee, watching the sun disappear in the cooling air fragrant with pine and juniper. Shafts of light came through the fading clouds and splashed muted orange, blue and purple hues onto the hills and cliffs, bringing colored memories of his pa and younger brothers. A heaviness descended upon him. His breaking heart urged a flow of tears past his resolve. The faces of his kin were there with him in the darkness, but they were soon replaced by the face of the wounded young man looking skyward. The memory unsettled Jasper’s spirit as if a rift cracked the truth of his universe. He could see the young man’s eyes again but now they were filled with hurt, abandonment and an unanswered question.
When the moon had risen high Jasper heard his brother, Black Feather, come into the camp. He stirred the fire to get more warmth then spread his saddle blanket and laid down close by. Jasper felt at peace and slipped back into sleep.
“Mornin’, Brother,” Jasper said as he squinted into the morning sun, a little embarrassed his brother rose before him.
“Good Morning, Fire Hawk. I have made coffee,” Black Feather offered.
“Ah, it smells good.”
