Showdown

by William W. Johnstone

  “You want to explain that?” Aaron asked.

  “I messed up their plans for riches. They won’t forgive me for that. And they won’t forget. I’m going to have some ol’ boys looking to kill me.”

  “I’ll pay you a thousand dollars for every one of them you kill,” Fuller Ross said.

  Frank stared at the man for a few seconds. “I’m not a manhunter, Fuller. I don’t kill for money.”

  “Then I’ll find someone who will,” Fuller replied.

  Frank shrugged his response. “Your option.”

  Fuller had been riding alone, at the end of the column. None of his former friends would have anything to do with him. Frank suspected that when the group returned to the business world, Fuller would be in for a lonely and very rough time of it. And he was going to face it alone, without support of family. He had heard some of the other women talking about Mavis’s plans to leave her husband.

  “Why don’t you hunt the men yourself, Fuller?” Jackson asked. “I can assure you, you will have ample time to do so.”

  “What the hell do you mean by that?” Fuller snapped.

  “Oh, I suspect that once the business community learns of your despicable behavior in this matter, you won’t find many men willing to have anything to do with you.”

  “And you’ll be just delighted to spread the word about me, won’t you?”

  “If asked, I shall tell the truth,” Jackson replied.

  “And so will I,” several others stated in unison.

  “Bastards,” Fuller cursed them.

  Frank stood up and put a stop to the bickering. “Mount up,” he told the group. They pushed on.

  They encountered no trouble of any kind as they made their way toward South Raven, and that puzzled Frank. He could not understand why Sonny and the others gave up so easily. Perhaps they thought they were being attacked by a large force. Maybe by the time they rounded up their horses, they figured it was too late to catch up with the escaped hostages. Frank just didn’t know. But he felt he would . . . when some of those involved in the kidnapping caught up with him. And he was sure that would happen. He kept a sharp eye out for any trouble on the way back to South Raven, but no trouble materialized.

  “We’ll be in town tomorrow afternoon,” Frank surprised the group by saying during a supper of rabbit meat he’d trapped earlier that day. “Y’all can get you a good meal and a hot bath then. And see the doctor if you like.”

  “That’s wonderful news, Frank,” John said. “But most of our wounds have healed since we left the old fort.”

  “I think it’s the cold pure air,” Horace said. “Am I correct, Frank?”

  “It’s got something to do with it, for a fact.”

  “I wonder if the stage is running yet,” Edmund said.

  “Probably,” Frank told him. Then he looked over at Jackson Mills. “You and me better have us a little chat, Jackson. Before we get to town.”

  “About what, Frank?” Jackson looked up, a puzzled expression on his face.

  “About that fellow you hired to kill me.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Jackson sat up straight.

  Frank related what Doc Raven had told him.

  Jackson shook his head. “Dr. Raven is badly misinformed, Frank. I paid no one to kill you. Whoever this man is, he lied. Why, I don’t know. But he lied.”

  Frank stared at Jackson for a moment. He believed him. More mystery to an already very strange situation.

  “This man, he resembled me?” Jackson asked.

  “I guess so,” Frank replied. “He sure said he was you.”

  Jackson nodded his head slowly. He cut his eyes to Fuller Ross. The man refused to meet his gaze. “You son of a bitch,” Jackson said, his tone filled with rancor.

  Fuller did not reply.

  “You betrayed me for a few dollars, didn’t you, Fuller? You wanted me dead, didn’t you? Answer me, damn you!”

  “What’s going on here?” Horace demanded.

  “I haven’t done anything,” Fuller said.

  “I entered a business arrangement with Fuller just weeks before we came out here,” Jackson said. “It’s rather complex, but the important point is this: Should either of us die, the living partner would benefit greatly. I thought it was merely a standard contract between friends. I see now what Jackson really had in mind.”

  “You can’t prove anything!” Fuller yelled.

  “Now, wait a minute,” Frank said, holding up a hand. “I don’t understand any of this.” He paused for a few seconds, then slowly nodded his head. “Unless the man never intended to kill me. He was set up to pretend to kill me, in the hopes he would tell me who hired him, and I would confront the man.”

  “And you would kill me,” Jackson concluded. “It’s something Fuller would do. Very complicated. So complex it didn’t stand much of a chance of working. That’s the manner in which many of his business deals are written. Complex and unworkable. . . except to his advantage.” He looked again at Fuller. “You are beneath contempt.”

  “You can’t prove any of this!” Fuller shouted.

  “Oh, shut up, Fuller,” Delbert told him. “You’re a damn snake in the grass. Now that I have a moment to reflect, I did see you talking with a stranger right after we arrived in town. I didn’t think anything of it until now. I saw you, or thought I did, give the man something. You were setting this up then, weren’t you?”

  “Prove it!” Fuller yelled. “You can’t prove it. You can’t prove any of it. It’s all conjecture. You don’t have a shred of evidence that will stand up in court.”

  Jackson stood up and walked over to the man he’d once called friend. He stood for a moment, then slapped the man across the face.

  Fuller staggered back, anger flushing his face, reddening it. “Damn you!”

  “I challenge you, Fuller,” Jackson said. “Name your weapon.”

  “Are you insane?” Fuller yelled. “You must be crazy.”

  “You better pick a weapon, Fuller. I’m warning you. I will have my satisfaction, one way or the other.”

  “I’m not going to fight you, Jackson.”

  “You’re a coward,” Jackson said. “If you won’t choose weapons, I will. Pistols. Name your second.”

  Fuller looked wildly around him, fear evident in his eyes. “I won’t fight you, Jackson. You’re making a mistake. I didn’t ask the man to kill Frank. I just wanted to scare . . . I ... uh ...” He realized he was only digging himself a deeper hole, and gulped a couple of times. He closed his mouth and shook his head.

  “Get a pistol, Fuller,” Jackson told him, his voice cold and flat-sounding.

  “No! I won’t do it. You can’t make me.”

  Jackson began cursing Fuller. He cursed him until he was out of breath. Fuller stood still in the middle of the clearing, shaking his head.

  Jackson walked to the man and hit him in the mouth with his fist. Fuller went down, his mouth bloody.

  “Get up and fight me, you bastard!” Jackson yelled.

  “No,” Fuller said.

  Jackson drew back his foot and started to kick the man. Fuller cringed in anticipation of the kick. Jackson thought better of it and stepped back, standing for a moment, looking down at the man he’d once called friend. “You’re a pitiful excuse for a man, Fuller.” He spat on the prostrate Fuller, the spittle striking the man in the face. Fuller did nothing. “Mavis will be far better off without you. And I shall personally see she is well supported, with your money, for the rest of her life.” Jackson turned his back to Fuller Ross and walked away.

  Frank looked at Fuller. The man was a coward through and through. Probably had been all his life, and after this, Frank thought, the man would be an outcast among all those who knew him. That is, once the full story about what happened out West was told and retold, and it surely would be.

  “Let’s all calm down and get some sleep,” Frank told the group. “We’ll be pulling out at first light.”

  * * *

&
nbsp; The entire town turned out to stand and watch Frank lead the very bedraggled group of men into South Raven. The citizens stood in silence and watched.

  Frank reined up in front of the saloon/hotel, and wearily swung down from the saddle just as Doc Raven walked up and stood for a moment, counting heads.

  “You’ve done the impossible, Frank,” the doctor said. “You’ve brought them all back . . . and in one piece too.”

  “More or less, Doc,” Frank said, limping over and stepping up onto the boardwalk. “Some of them are missing some teeth.”

  “You’re a little worse for wear yourself,” Doc Raven observed.

  “I’ll be all right. The bullet went right through my leg without hitting anything vital. I treated it with tree moss.”

  “I used it during the war. It works. I don’t know why, but it does.”

  The men stood and watched as the wives of the freed hostages came out and greeted them. Mavis was not among them. Fuller stood alone by his horse, looking very uncomfortable.

  “That one,” Frank said, nodding toward Fuller, “is one sorry human being.”

  “The women told me all about him,” Doc Raven replied. “And the news spread very quickly. Fuller Ross will not be treated with much warmth in this town.”

  “Any of the kidnappers been spotted in this area?”

  “No. And the road is open, the stages running.”

  “The telegraph wires up?”

  “Yes. And humming with the stories about the kidnapping. Every lawman in the West knows about it.”

  “Was my name left out of the story?”

  “As far as I know, yes. But it’s only a matter of time. You know that.”

  “I’ll be gone by then. How’s Dog?”

  “Missing you. He mopes around. Horse is settling down. He even let a stranger pet him the other day.”

  “Amazing.”

  “I think you’ve been a bad influence on him.”

  “Very funny, Doc. Well, I think I’ll go play with Dog for a few minutes and then clean up. I need a bath in the worst way.”

  “I won’t disagree,” Doc Raven said with a smile.

  Before either man could say another word, Dog came barking and running up the street and practically jumped into Frank’s arms. After about a minute of frantic face-licking and pawing and barking, the big cur began to settle down.

  “I think he missed you, Frank,” Doc Raven said, smiling.

  “He smells like flowers, Doc. What’d you do, give him a bath with some sort of women’s perfumed soap?”

  “Yes. And I can tell you he didn’t like it one damn little bit.”

  “I don’t blame him. I’m surprised he didn’t attract every female dog in the county.”

  “He did. The poor boy was worn down to a frazzle. I had to take him home with me and keep him in the house so he could get some rest.”

  Fuller Ross came running up the street, all wild-eyed and panicky, shouting, “She’s got a knife. Says she’s going to castrate me. Help!”

  Mavis appeared at the end of the street, holding a very large butcher knife. “Come back here, you little weasel!” she shouted.

  “You go to hell!” Fuller yelled. “You’re crazy, woman. Let me explain.”

  “There is nothing to explain, Fuller,” Mavis told him. “And if you try, I’ll cut your lying damn tongue out.”

  “You tell him, sister!” a woman shouted from the boardwalk.

  “Turn him into a gelding, girl!” Sister Clarabelle yelled. “I’ll hold him down and you can do the nut-cuttin’!”

  “Whoa!” Fuller hollered, looking frantically around him for someone, anyone, to help him. No one volunteered.

  “You, Edith,” Clarabelle yelled, pointing to a woman across the street. “Block that alley on your side. Bertha, you and Zelda take the street. Don’t let the scum get past you.”

  “Good God!” Fuller yelled, panic in his voice. “Somebody help me.”

  “Not me,” Doc Raven said. “I make it a point not to get in the way of a woman holding a large knife. ”

  “Nor me,” Frank said.

  “Me and Winifred will cover this side,” a woman yelled.

  “Good girl, Henrietta,” Sister Clarabelle shouted. “We’ll all work tegether and get the worthless scum and cut him.”

  “This is getting out of hand,” Doc Raven said. “I think these ladies mean it.”

  “I never doubted it,” Frank replied.

  Mavis began slowly advancing up the street, waving the butcher knife.

  Fuller began backing up.

  “Late stage is comin’,” someone shouted. “Clear the street. They’re comin’ fast.”

  “Damn!” Henrietta said.

  Fuller made a dash for the livery and made it. The last anyone saw of him for that day and a couple more days was Fuller on a mule, riding bareback, heading for the timber. He was dressed only in his long-handles.

  Twenty-seven

  After a long bath and dressing in clean clothes, Frank had his healing wounds checked by Doc Raven.

  “They look good, Frank. Nothing I can do now. You’ll have a permanent scar on the side of your head, but you’ve got a good head of hair that will cover it.”

  “How about the men’s wounds?”

  “Nothing serious. They all just had the stuffing beat out of them. Some of them lost teeth.”

  “And one lost his wife,” Frank replied.

  “For a fact,” Doc Raven said with a smile. “That’s was Thompson’s mule he stole getting away from his wife. Thompson told me a while ago that the mule will take him to the farm . . . eventually. Ross will probably sleep in the barn until Mavis calms down.”

  “Did anyone take the knife away from her?”

  “One of the ladies from the church got it. I gave Mavis a sedative that will keep her knocked out for hours.”

  “Any news come in with the stage?”

  “Nothing of any importance. You expecting any?”

  “I don’t think those outlaws have given up, Doc. I just don’t see them giving up that easy.”

  “What are you thinking, Frank?”

  “That they’ll come back here and pull something.”

  “Why?”

  “You’re too cut off here. One snip with wire cutters on either side of town and you’d be easy targets for outlaws on the rampage.”

  “We’ve got two stages a day now, Frank. The schedule was changed since the road opened.”

  “Hours apart, Doc. Besides, so what? A driver and a guard are going to help you against forty or fifty heavily armed outlaws?”

  “A lot of men in this town are good shots, Frank. You know that. War veterans and Indian fighters and buffalo hunters.”

  “I know all that, Doc. But if the gang were to slip in close and hide, a few at a time, then strike real fast . . .” Frank shook his head. “Maybe I’m seeing danger where there is none. I hope so. I just can’t understand why they gave up the way they did.”

  “Well, that puzzles me too,” the doctor admitted. “But I can’t see them attacking a town. Even the way you described it. Too many of them would get shot to pieces.”

  “Maybe,” Frank said. “Well, anyway, I’m going to get some supper and then hit the hay.” He smiled. “Literally. I’m going to sleep in that little room in the livery.”

  “Sweet dreams.”

  “See you in the morning, Doc.”

  Frank slept well and deeply that first night back in town, awakening about an hour before dawn, Dog asleep on the floor at the foot of the bunk. Frank put on water to boil for coffee, and then washed up, splashing cold water on his face to help him get the sleep out of his eyes. He stretched until his joints creaked, and then let Dog out to do his morning business.

  Now fully awake, standing by the small potbellied stove, Frank could not shake the feeling that the outlaws had not yet finished with the freed hostages, the town, or with him. Especially with him.

  Frank dressed in the new clothe
s he’d purchased at the general store, then sat down on the edge of the bunk. While he smoked and drank coffee, Frank carefully cleaned his six-gun and then his rifle. Maybe he was wrong about the outlaws attacking the town ... but he didn’t think so. However, he didn’t want to spread panic in the town with false rumors.

  He stepped out of the livery into the cold early morning and walked to the cafe. It had just opened and he was the first customer. He ordered breakfast and a pot of coffee. He was just sugaring his coffee when Doc Raven walked in and sat down at the table with him.

  “You’re up early,” Frank commented.

  “I’ve been thinking about what you said yesterday afternoon, about the outlaws attacking the town. Maybe you’re right, Frank.”

  “And you think we should do what?”

  “I’ll talk to a few people. But not the community at large. I don’t want to start a panic.”

  “Exactly my thinking, Doc.”

  The men ate their breakfast, drank coffee, and smoked and talked for a time. Doc Raven excused himself, saying he had to check on a patient out in the country. “I’ll be back by mid-morning, Frank. See you then.”

  “Take care, Doc.”

  Moments after Doc Raven walked out of the cafe, Old Bob walked in and sat down at the table with Frank. Before Frank could say a word, Bob said, “I been thinkin’ about something, Frank. It’s been wallowin’ around in my head and I can’t get shut of it.”

  “Oh?”

  Bob poured him a cup of coffee. “How come them no-counts who kidnapped the Easterners just up and rode off after you attacked the old fort?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve wondered the same thing for days.”

  “I think they’re up to something.”

  Frank waited while Bob took a swallow of coffee.

  “Don’t make no sense that they would just up and ride off. Unless they figured you was a part of a big posse.”

  “That could be it.”

  “I think that mayhaps they might be ridin’ back thisaway to hit the town.”

  “So do I, Bob.”

  “I talked to Phil at the saloon last night and he thinks the same way.”

  “And you propose we do what?”

  “Get ready for one hell of a fight.”