by Ralph Cotton
Inside the house, Lydia, Anne and Delphia stood with frightened looks on their faces, watching Jessup come through the door, close it soundly behind himself and lock it. “Father, what is it?” Lydia asked.
“It’s nothing, wives,” said Jessup, brushing the matter aside. “A minor disturbance, nothing more.” He looked all around and asked, “Where are the other wives and the children?”
“They are all upstairs in the special rooms, Father,” Anne said. “They know not to come out until the gunfire stops and someone says all is dear.”
“Good,” said Jessup, not really concerned with anything but his own well-being. “You two join them,” he said to Lydia and Anne.
“But, Father, what about you and Delphia?” Lydia asked.
“We’ll be in my private study until this blows over. I know that by now every believer in Wolf Valley is rushing toward the sound of that gunfire even as we’re talking.” He offered a thin nervous smile. “Now please, both of you, do as you’ve been told.”
Inside the rear door, Randall stood listening to the sound of Jessup’s voice, followed by footsteps coming down a hall in his direction. He raised the shotgun and waited in silence in the darkened day kitchen.
“Hurry, my dear,” Jessup said to Delphia. “We mustn’t have our unborn child in harm’s way.” Delphia followed along behind him. Before reaching the day kitchen, Jessup led her into his private study—a candlelit room furnished expensively with polished oak furniture and wide leather sofas. On one wall a large golden cross hung above an extra wide bed whose ornate cover bore an elaborate initial J in the center of flying angels and cherubs.
“I say it’s an ill wind that blows no good, eh?” Jessup said, loosening his tie, smiling at Delphia as he led her toward the bed. “Call me lustful, but the sound of violence close at hand always arouses me.”
“No, please!” said Delphia, hesitating, as if she thought doing so might help. Down the street, muffled gunfire still roared.
“Come, come, darling,” Jessup cooed. “Slip out of your dress and accommodate your loving husband.”
She heard the urgency in his voice and knew she could not put him off. She slipped her dress up over her head. She wore nothing beneath it, as all Jessup’s wives were instructed to do. Her face flushed in shame, she held her dress in front of herself, partially hiding her nakedness.
“Oh my!” Jessup said, his eyes going over her clear young flesh in the glow of candlelight. “I can’t tell you what seeing you this way does to me!” He stepped forward, reaching out a hand toward the wadded-up dress. “No, let’s do away with this, shall we?”
“No, don’t,” Delphia said, pulling back from him, knowing and dreading what would come next.
“Don’t tell me no!” Jessup shouted. Again he reached for the dress, this time aggressively.
On the other side of the locked door, Randall had heard Delphia’s voice almost pleading with Jessup. He could stand it no longer. He lunged with his shoulder against the heavy oaken door, forcing it to give, but not all the way.
“What was that?” Jessup said, startled, half turning toward the noise at the door. Delphia’s dress hung loosely from his hand. Delphia stood naked, one hand covering the lower front of herself, the other hand behind her back. She didn’t answer, but her eyes were riveted to the door as if intuition revealed who was there.
“Randall?” she gasped, hoping against hope, calling his name the way one called out the names of the dead.
“I’m coming, Delph!” Randall bellowed, his shoulder pounding the door again, this time causing a long split to form along the doorframe.
“Oh my God! Randall! You’re alive! Alive!” Delphia sobbed and screamed in joyful hysteria at the sound of her husband’s voice.
“Gawdamn it!” Jessup cursed loudly, seeing the rend in the doorframe, knowing that at any second the man would be upon him. “You won’t be for long!” He rushed to a nightstand beside the bed, threw open a drawer and rummaged madly for the small gun he kept there. Another heavy thump from the door sounded as Jessup’s hand closed around the small revolver. “There I have it!” he said. But as he turned, he felt scissors sink deep into his shoulder just below his collarbone.
As he screamed in pain and tried to raise the pistol to Delphia’s face, the door burst open and Randall quickly aimed the shotgun at him, saying, “Drop the gun, Jessup, or you’re dead!”
Jessup lowered the gun and let it drop to the floor. At the same time he grabbed Delphia by her forearm, keeping her close, too close for Randall to risk firing a blast from the shotgun. “Use your head, wolfer!” Jessup said, taking command. “Do you want to come this far, do this much, only to kill this poor, lovely woman?”
“The only person I want to kill is you, Jessup,” Randall said with quiet resolve. He stepped forward, keeping the cocked shotgun to his shoulder with one hand, picking up the dress with his other. “Here, Delph! Put this on,” he said.
Delphia reached out with Jessup holding her by her other arm, took the dress and held it up in front of her. “I—I thought you were dead, Randall,” she said, her voice too emotional to be more than a breathless whisper.
“I know, Delph,” Randall said. “I’m sorry you had to think that. I would have been dead if it wasn’t for CC Ellis and the Mosely woman. My head is shot up pretty bad, but I’m going to be all right.” He managed a faint smile. “Now that I see your face.”
“Oh, Randall.” She sobbed.
“Maybe you’re forgetting, Wolfer,” said Jessup. “I’ve got a whole townful of believers out there. Do you think they are going to just let you pass, especially after you’ve killed their leader?” He nodded toward the scissors sticking out of his shoulder.
“Jessup, I don’t know what’s going on out there, but it doesn’t sound like too many of your believers are getting involved,” said Randall.
“Not yet maybe,” said Jessup, “but wait till they see what’s been done to me. If I die, they’ll rip you both apart like wild beasts! You and that long rider out there!”
“Ellis is out there?” Randall looked concerned.
“Not for long he won’t be,” said Jessup. “He’ll soon be dead. So will you if you kill me.”
Randall sighed, lowering the shotgun an inch. “Jessup, I came here to kill you, but the fact is, I can’t.”
Jessup looked surprised. “Oh…really?”
“All I want is what I’ve wanted all along: my beloved wife, Delph,” Randall said. “I just want to take her away from here and forget this ever happened. He turned his eyes to Delphia. “I can’t kill the man who fathered a child with my wife. I can’t kill you and face my wife’s child the rest of my life. Do you understand that, Delph?”
Delphia tugged her arm free from Jessup, who remained close to her anyway, half-hidden by her. “Yes, husband,” she replied to Randall. “I don’t know why God put this on us, but if I bring a child into this world, I don’t want this snake’s death hanging over any of our lives.”
Jessup listened with a stunned expression. But then he cut in, seizing an opportunity for himself. “If you don’t mind me saying so, that’s the right way to feel about this. God would want you to treat this—”
“Shut up, Jessup!” said Randall, turning the shotgun back toward him. Jessup cowered back, raising his hand over his face. “You don’t know nothing about God! All you know is how to use his word to get what you want for yourself!”
“You’re right. That’s true. God forgive me,” Jessup said quickly. Outside the sounds of gunfire had lessened, but hadn’t stopped altogether. “Don’t listen to me! Do what God wants you to do!”
“We’re going out there, Jessup, you and me,” said Randall. “I want you to call your men off Ellis and let him ride away. I want you to let all of us leave without any bloodshed.”
Jessup looked at him with a sincere expression and said, “I see no problem with doing that at all.”
Randall gave Jessup a look of disgust and said, “
Hand me that necktie.” He gestured toward the necktie Jessup had taken off moments earlier.
“Why?” Jessup asked, looking concerned.
“Just hand it to me,” Randall demanded. He turned to Delphia and asked, “Darling, is there anything you need to take with you from here?”
“No,” Delphia said firmly. “I want nothing from here but the dress I’m wearing. I’m burning it as soon as I get another.”
Randall touched his fingertips to his bandaged head, feeling moist, fresh blood, which had seeped through the gauze. “All right, then.” He looped the necktie over Jessup and held on to one end of it, jerking Jessup over in front of the shotgun barrel. “Let’s take it real easy.” He gestured Jessup toward the door.
Chapter 23
Amid the gunfire, Ellis managed to make his way to the bank, slip inside and close the thick door behind himself. Three bullets hit the door as soon as he’d done so. Across the counter, Lexar stood staring wide-eyed at the cocked Walker Colt in Ellis’s hand, the tip of it aimed at his face. “Don’t shoot!” Lexar pleaded, his hands held high and trembling. “Here, look! It’s all yours! Take it and go. But don’t shoot me!”
Ellis looked at the open carpetbag sitting on the counter in front of Lexar, and at the four bottles of whiskey standing beside it. “You’re some piece of work, mister,” Ellis said, dropping the latch on the door. Walking over to the counter, he took the shotgun from under his arm, laid it on the counter, picked up one of the bottles and pulled the cork with his teeth. He held the bottle out for Lexar to take a drink.
“Me?” said Lexar, looking surprised.
“Yeah,” said Ellis, “you first.”
“Oh, I see,” said Lexar, sipping as Ellis held the bottle to his lips. “Nothing wrong with this whiskey.” Lexar grinned nervously. Outside, the firing stopped for a moment Ellis raised the bottle to his lips and took a long swig. Lexar saw the blood on Ellis’s hand around the bottle and said, “You’ve been shot, long rider!”
“I know it,” said Ellis. “Am I going to find Jessup in that big house up the street? I want to end this thing for once and for all.”
“I don’t know,” said Lexar. “As you see, I was just about to leave Paradise myself.”
“Yeah, I see,” said Ellis, “with all the bank’s money.”
“Well…” Lexar smiled. “You of all people ought to understand how money just has a way of making you want to steal it.”
Ellis stared at the other man, not returning Lexar’s wide ugly smile. He shoved the big Walker barrel closer to his frightened face. “Jessup!” he said flatly.
“Okay, all right!” said Lexar. “Yes, I would guess he’s in his family quarters, got his head stuck up one of his wife’s dresses. That’s usually where he goes when something like this happens! Like I said, though, I’m leaving here. Far as I’m concerned, I’ll split this money with you if you kill him and get us both across Wolf Valley.”
“I’m going to turn away from you and look back around in a minute,” said Ellis, picking up the shotgun and swinging it back up under his arm. “If I see you, I’m going to figure you’re too damn stupid to live.”
“I’m gone already,” said Lexar. He snatched up the bottles, jammed them down into the carpetbag atop the stacks of money and ran to the rear door before Ellis had completely turned away from him.
As Ellis walked to the front window, he heard Lexar slam the back door. Looking out on the street, Ellis saw that Falon and his two remaining men had joined forces with Searcy, all four of them hunkering down among the fright boxes. Ellis looked both ways along the street, but to his surprise he saw that no more Believers had joined in the fight. “Maybe Paradise has grown as sick of you as I have, Jessup,” he murmured to himself. Checking the shotgun and reloading the big Walker, he stepped over to the door, took a deep breath to brace himself and clear his mind, and said, “Here goes.”
“Get him!” shouted Frank Falon, seeing the door to the bank swing open and Ellis come charging out, the Walker blazing in his right hand.
Arby Ryan jumped out from behind the freight boxes, taking aim; but before his shot exploded, a bullet from the Walker slammed into his chest and sent him crashing backward into Lewis Barr, his blood splattering all over Barr’s face. Falon ducked down in time to miss a bullet that whistled past his head. But Searcy was not as lucky. He’d seen his chance to get Ellis while Ellis nailed Ryan. Rising for a quick shot, Searcy caught the full impact of the shotgun blast as Ellis swung the shotgun up with his injured left hand and pulled the trigger.
Ellis crouched, ready to take out the next man to show his face. But before that happened he heard Jessup’s voice call out from up the street, “Cease firing, men! I’ve a gun to my head! I repeat, cease firing!”
Ellis remained poised, ready for anything. Behind the freight crates, Falon stood up slowly; so did Barr. Searcy lay against the front of a building, his lifeblood spilling from the large shotgun blast to his chest.
“Randall?” Ellis said, barely believing his own eyes, seeing the bandaged head close behind Jessup.
“It’s me and Delph, Ellis!” said Randall. “Here’s Jessup. We can all ride out of here. We’ve won!”
Ellis stepped over close enough to a buckboard wagon to take cover behind it if he had to. “Not as long as he’s alive, Randall!” said Ellis. “Step away from him. I’ll finish it!”
“No, Ellis,” said Randall. “Delph and I talked it over. We can’t abide that. We just want to leave here and go live in peace. We’re not killers.”
“I am,” said Ellis. “Step away.”
“No!” said Randall, adamantly. “There’s been too much killing already!”
“Randall, this man holds all the high cards when it comes to Wolf Valley,” said Ellis. He’ll have his men ride us down. He might be telling you he won’t, but don’t trust him, not for a minute!”
“We’ll take all the horses from the livery bar. We’ll lead them away from Paradise and turn them all loose outside the valley,” said Randall. “That way we won’t be followed.”
“Randall, it’s a mistake leaving him alive,” said Ellis. “I’m putting a bullet in his head.”
“I can’t let you do that, Ellis,” said Randall. “I told him no harm is coming to him. I’ve got to stick to my word.”
“No, you don’t, Randall,” said Ellis, “not after all this bastard has done to you! Don’t be crazy! We’ve got to kill him!”
“The Lord teaches us to forgive our enemies, Ellis,” said Randall. “I’ve got to go the Lord’s way with it.”
“Look at us, Randall,” said Ellis. “We’re arguing over the son of a bitch who stole your wife! The Lord doesn’t mean for you to forgive something like Jessup!”
“Then you tell me, Ellis. Who does the Lord mean for me to forgive, if not my enemy, Jessup? He’s the only enemy I’ve got.”
“Hell, I don’t know, Randall.” Ellis slumped, but kept the Walker pointed in Falon’s direction. “You better hope you’re right. I’m taking Callie Mosely and her son and making a run out of here. I don’t want him and these Believers on my trail. I’ll hold you responsible.”
“All right, Ellis,” said Randall, “I take full respons—” His words were cut short as Jessup spun, knocked the shotgun away from him and plunged the scissors into his chest.
Ellis could not fire for fear of hitting Randall or the woman. He ran forward but couldn’t get there before Randall stumbled backward and fell to the ground, Jessup snatching the shotgun from his hands. “No!” Delphia screamed, lunging at Jessup, who moved quick, knocked her aside and aimed the shotgun at Randall’s face from less than a foot away and squeezed the trigger. The shotgun exploded, but in the final second as Jessup fired, a rifle bullet knocked the back of his skull high into the air in a shower of blood and brain matter.
At the same time the ground beside Randall’s head turned into a hole dug by the shotgun’s blast. Randall rolled away yelling, clasping his ear, but otherwise
unharmed. Ellis arrived next to him in time to drag him toward cover as the street began to explode once again in gunfire. In front of the meetinghouse, Jim Heady raised a rifle in the air and let out a loud war whoop, shouting, “Jessup is dead! Jessup is dead! That rotten bastard can burn in hell!”
Falon shouted, “Father, no!” and ran into the street, firing at Jim Heady. “Not Father!” But a bullet from the Walker lifted him backward and sent him rolling in the dirt. When he stopped rolling, his dead eyes stared blankly upward at the sky.
Ellis spun quickly toward Barr, who had stood up looking toward the boardwalk for help of any kind. Seeing no one come forward, Barr let his pistol roll off his fingertips to the ground. He backed away a few steps, then turned and disappeared into an alley. Ellis spun toward the boardwalk, hoping that letting Barr go wasn’t a mistake he’d later regret.
A ringing silence set in. Ellis looked from door to door, window to window. When the door to a barber-shop creaked open, he raised the Walker and aimed it, cocked and ready. “Don’t shoot!” said a gruff but shaky voice. “You’ll have no trouble with me!”
Another door creaked open; Ellis spun toward it. “Me neither,” said a timid voice.
Slowly, one and two at a time, doors opened and people appeared along the boardwalk. The silence lasted a moment longer, Ellis staring tensely, the Walker still ready. He spun toward a sharp sound only to see an old man begin clapping his hands together. Ellis let out a breath as he realized that what he heard was the beginning of applause.
“I’ll be damned,” he said quietly, with a bemused look. He looked off in the direction of the crosses, as if wishing that Rudy Banatell and the others could hear it, too. Then he managed to smile as the applause built along the boardwalk and sounded all along the street. He thought of Callie, and smiled to himself, thinking how good life would be with her, now that all this was behind them.
