Nazareth

by Tony Masero

  ‘She is begging,’ Doctor Jack translated. ‘She had no intention of harming or insulting you at the time you were together she thought that Billy Lee was dead, she had no knowledge that he still lived.’

  Jethro lowered his head and mulled it over. It made sense and he believed it but his course was set and in the long run it made little difference to him.

  ‘Hey,’ piped up Les, ready to nudge Jethro in the right direction. ‘Remember just how much reward there is and what that girl is worth to us, won’t you?’

  ‘Freddie,’ he said. ‘Get this Indian out of here, like I told you.’

  Billy Lee had come into Nazareth earlier.

  He had been very hungry, not having eaten for two days. He determine to get himself a meal before working his way into Middle Town and confronting Burk, so he settled on The Broken Wing to get a bite. He hoped he would go unrecognized in Boulder’s hat and coat and by keeping his head lowered. He guessed that he had probably already been forgotten by now, most of the locals thinking he was dead after being taken off by Burk’s men and then being lost at sea.

  So, he slid into the saloon and stepped up to the bar. The place had a handful of seated customers and a table full of nattering whores who were without custom as yet. Billy Lee thought he was pretty safe.

  ‘Evening, stranger,’ greeted the barman, a new man that Billy Lee did not recognize. ‘How can I help you?’

  ‘You got something to eat?’

  ‘Sure, got steak on tonight. That do you?’

  ‘It will, well done with something on the side.’

  ‘We got potatoes and greens.’

  ‘Okay, give me a bottle too, will you?’

  ‘Surely,’ said the bartender, lifting a bottle of whiskey and a glass onto the bar. ‘Take a seat and it’ll be right with you.’

  Lifting the bottle and glass, Billy Lee carried them over to a corner table set in shadow and sat down.

  One of the whores with a sense of duty climbed to her feet and began to cross over to him. Billy Lee held up a sharply restraining finger warning her off and with a shrug the woman turned and slunk back to the others.

  Billy Lee poured himself a glass and sipped as he studied the room from under the brim of his hat. Nobody appeared to be paying him any attention, all of the other customers intent on their conversation or their drinking and Billy Lee relaxed.

  The one he had mistakenly paid no attention to was the young man who was watching him surreptitiously through the service hatch as he washed glasses in a bucket of water in the kitchen behind the bar. An acne-faced, fair-haired boy who had only one good arm. The arm had only recently healed from a gunshot wound but the fellow had good opportunity to allow it to heal whilst he was being held in the town jail. He had good reason to remember Billy Lee, for it was he who had shot him, along with the other three men he had killed whilst they tried to rob the saloon.

  With his head down, the young man made his excuses and slipped away through the kitchen and out the back door.

  When the saloon door burst open, Billy Lee was half way through his steak and busy devouring the plateful of meat with appetite.

  Jethro shoved Minnie into the room in front of him.

  Billy Lee froze with a forkful half way to his mouth, his hand laid down the fork and slipped to the gun at his waist under the table and he eased the pistol into his lap. What was Minnie doing here? Was she being forced to whore in this place and this man was one of her customers?

  On consideration, it did not look like that as the two stood at the doorway. The man was obviously forcing Minnie to search around the room. But looking for what? She did not look too bad, he thought. Baggy men’s clothes but unharmed as far as he could tell. What had happened here whilst he had been away?

  The man asked Minnie something and she shook her head negatively. The fellow pushed Minnie brusquely aside and stepped into the middle of the room.

  ‘There a Billy Lee LaBone in here?’ he called.

  What the hell was this and who was this fellow? pondered Billy Lee, keeping his head lowered.

  ‘Come on, he here or anybody know where he is?’

  The place had gone quiet and the few customers looked from one to other and only shrugged negatively, none of them looking in Billy Lee’s direction.

  ‘No?’ called Jethro. ‘Nobody know him?’

  ‘He used to be here a while back,’ piped up one of the whores. ‘But he went away. Maybe you should ask James Burk where he went.’

  There was a collectively quiet snigger from the customers at that.

  ‘Maybe I will,’ answered Jethro. ‘I might well do that.’

  ‘Well, young fellow, you’d best go with your pistols ready, you do that,’ advised one old timer. ‘Mister Burk don’t take kindly to folks interfering in his business.’

  Turning in a circle, Jethro looked once more around the whole room, ‘Anyone hear of this Billy Lee and you let me know. I’m Jethro Bayliss and I want that boy bad, he shot down my brother and I aim to make it right between us.’

  With that he turned on his heel, and grasping Minnie by the elbow forced her out through the door.

  Jethro Bayliss? Billy Lee had no idea who he was or the brother he had supposedly shot down and killed. The only killings he had been guilty of lately had been the outlaws at the mule train. That must be it, Billy Lee thought; one of them had been an Anglo and the other a Mexican. Then there was that youngster, what was his name? Ted Early, The Timely Kid, that was it, he had escaped. It must have been him who took the news to Bayliss and now the fellow was tracking him down with Minnie. Was it with her help willingly given, he wondered, or was she being forced to do it? It had looked like the latter from their demeanor and the way Bayliss had handled her.

  It was best he followed them and see if he could help Minnie.

  With that thought in mind, Billy Lee re-holstered his pistol, got to his feet, threw some coins on the table and then made for the door.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Ever cautious, Billy Lee opened the door a crack first to see if the coast was clear outside.

  Far from it!

  A row of armed riders surrounded the front of the establishment. They carried burning torches and had neatly surrounded Jethro and his men.

  ‘You got Billy Lee LaBone in there?’ a voice called and Billy Lee recognized the harsh tones as that of Jed Crone.

  ‘He ain’t in there,’ Jethro answered. ‘But if you find him you let me know.’

  ‘Let you know?’ snorted Crone. ‘And who the hell are you who’s so all-fired keen to get that sonofabitch?’

  ‘Name’s Jethro Bayliss and I got a personal bone to pick with LaBone.’

  ‘That so?’ said Crone and Billy Lee saw him lean forward curiously in the saddle, his face lit by the flickering light of the torches. ‘Who’s that woman you got there with you? That you Minnie?’

  Billy Lee watched as Minnie silently backed away nervously to stand behind Jethro.

  ‘What’s the matter, Minnie?’ cackled Crone. ‘Cat got your tongue?’

  ‘It’s her,’ Jethro answered. ‘We come with her to pick up the reward.’

  Billy Lee drew his Colt and bit his lip in indecision. There were too many of them, far too many for one gun but he could not let them take Minnie again. He turned to a man at the nearest table.

  ‘You got a pistol I can borrow?’ he asked.

  ‘Borrow my pistol?’ replied the fellow, eyeing him cautiously. ‘Sure but it ain’t worth much. Not accurate for more than twenty feet, I don’t keep it for no more than snakes and such.’

  ‘No matter,’ Billy Lee answered anxiously. ‘Right now anything’ll do.’

  ‘Man, you must be desperate,’ the man said wryly as he handed over the pistol.

  Billy Lee nodded his thanks and checked the action on the aged gun. He had his back against the door behind him and looked up just as he saw the barrel of a Winchester poke through the service hatch over the bar.

  �
�Don’t you move!’ called a high-pitched voice. ‘I got you covered.’

  Billy Lee let both guns hang down by his side as he asked, ‘Who the devil are you?’

  ‘You wouldn’t remember, LaBone. You busted up my arm and killed my partners dead in here. Remember me now? You should have finished me along with them ‘cos now I’m going to finish you, Mister hot-shot gunman.’

  Billy Lee saw the tousled fair hair behind the rifle and recognized the young bottle washer as the youngster he had clouted hard in the head instead of killing a long time ago.

  ‘Was it you went fetch them fellers outside?’ he asked.

  ‘Sure I did, I knew your face and I knew they’d want you bad. It was said you drownded out there on the sea but here you are, fresh as a daisy like Jonah risen from the belly of the whale.’

  Billy Lee breathed deep and lowered his head, ‘I let you live, boy. I gave you a chance, don’t blow it now.’

  ‘You stole my damned gun and put me in jail,’ the boy shouted back irritably, levering a shell into the rifle. ‘That was my daddy’s favorite shooting piece.’

  Billy Lee raised both his pistols at arm’s length and fearlessly stalked across the room towards the service hatch, he fired off the two guns as he came. The woodwork around the hatch exploded in rips of wood and sawdust as the bullets struck and the young man screamed in terror.

  The few customers in the saloon dived for cover and there were cries of alarm as the barrage continued. Gun smoke filled the air and the noise was tremendous in the enclosed space.

  The trembling boy dropped the Winchester unfired through the hatchway and Billy Lee could hear him blubbering on the other side.

  ‘Go on,’ he growled. ‘Get the hell out of here, boy, before I really put one in you.’

  There was the sound of scampering feet from the kitchen and Billy Lee stood in the center of the room and shucked out his empties and begun reloading from the ammunition in his belt. He turned to the barkeep, who was crouching nervously down behind the bar.

  ‘There a back way out?’ Billy Lee asked.

  ‘That’s where the kid went,’ answered the man. ‘You aiming to kill him?’

  ‘No, I ain’t but I reckon to take advantage of the same route.’

  ‘Well, hold on there,’ admonished the bartender, suddenly taking a bolder stance as he climbed back to his feet. ‘Who’s going to pay for the damage in here?’

  ‘You are,’ said Billy Lee, brushing past him and making for the rear exit.

  Freddie had done as he was told and guided Doctor Jack around the saloon to the outhouses out back.

  ‘Go on,’ Freddie ordered, pushing the Indian forward with his gun barrel. ‘Get over to one of those sheds and stay there.’

  ‘You have been hurt?’ asked Doctor Jack, jerking his chin at the bandage around Freddie’s head.

  ‘Sure, I’m always getting hurt.’

  ‘Let me see.’

  ‘Why on earth would I want to do that?’

  ‘Because I’m a doctor, you heard me say it, didn’t you?’

  Freddie was curious, ‘A doctor! What a regular sawbones?’

  ‘I was trained by a superior shaman, a very skilled man. You have heard of the famous Sagwa Indian Oil, have you not?’

  As he spoke, Doctor Jack’s eyes quickly roved around the shadowy storage area, over the piled crates of empty bottles stacked by the dark sheds, searching for some kind of weapon.

  ‘I think I heard of that stuff,’ frowned Freddie. ‘They sell it in them Indian shows don’t they?’

  ‘Indeed, it is a marvelous cure-all; my teacher used it for everything. Let me see, you may have suffered some trauma to your skull with such a blow.’

  ‘Well, it sure aches,’ Freddie agreed.

  ‘Any nausea, sickness or trembling of the limbs, any associated dizziness and an overwhelming need for sleep?’

  Freddie thought about it and the more he did the more it seemed he suffered from the whole list of symptoms.

  ‘I guess…. Maybe. Yeah, I think I do.’

  ‘Aha!’ breathed Doctor Jack with a satisfied professional air. ‘Those are the indicators indeed.’

  ‘Indicators of what?’

  ‘A brain fracture.’

  ‘Oh, God!’ sighed Freddie. ‘I got my head broke open, you mean?’

  Doctor Jack sucked his teeth and frowned seriously, ‘Far worse, I fear.’

  ‘Worse?’ whispered Freddie.

  ‘I should take a look; there may be some massage I can apply. It will maneuver the fragments, coordinate the junctures and remediate your pain.’

  ‘You can do all that?’ asked Freddie in wonder.

  ‘It is how I am trained,’ Doctor Jack answered with confidence.

  ‘Sure be a blessing.’

  ‘Let me unwind the bandage and feel for the loose pieces.’

  ‘Loose pieces?’ muttered Freddie with a hint of fear.

  ‘Indeed, parts of the skull floating about freely so that the bone pieces rub against each other and cause distress.’

  ‘Oh my Lord, it sounds awful.’

  ‘Bend you head forward, let me explore.’

  Obediently, Freddie lowered his pistol and leaned forward allowing Doctor Jack to unwrap his bandage.’

  ‘Whilst you’re there, Doc,’ said Freddie. ‘I’ve been getting some kind of shooting pains in my neck, can you take a look at that as well?’

  ‘First things first,’ Doctor Jack answered, allowing his long fingers to probe at Freddie’s head. ‘Now, does that cause any pain?’

  ‘Aw, yeah, kinda.’

  ‘Hmm, quite a lump you have there.’

  ‘Got hit with a damned coffee pot.’

  Silently, Doctor Jack slipped a large and empty, heavyset brandy bottle free of its slot in one of the crates.

  ‘Very well, now hold quite still, this might hurt a little.’

  He swung the bottle from over head height down on the back of Freddie’s unprotected noddle. The thick glass bounced back as it connected with Freddie’s hard bone and Doctor Jack quickly swung again. This time the bottle broke apart and Freddie’s legs began to give way under him.

  ‘Oh, no, not again….’ Doctor Jack heard him sigh as Freddie dropped full length at his feet.

  ‘A little restorative rest is now in order, I think,’ smiled Doctor Jack, patting his patient on the back and retrieving Freddie’s shooter from his senseless fingers.

  He spun around at the muffled sound of shooting coming from inside The Broken Wing.

  Doctor Jack crouched down and holding the pistol before him made his way to the corner of the building and peeked around. He saw the gang of gathered men and Jethro still standing with Minnie close by behind him. The torch bearing riders were milling about in confusion at sound of the shots and men were shouting at each other in consternation.

  Suddenly, Doctor Jack caught the sound of running feet and saw a figure flash by behind him and run off into the night along the cliff path.

  Doctor Jack wondered what was going on and he stood there a moment, unsure of what to do.

  He was still in such a condition when another figure appeared out of the darkness behind him and Doctor Jack quickly raised the pistol.

  ‘Hold on there, old buddy,’ said Billy Lee. ‘It’s me.’

  ‘Thank the spirits it is you Billy Lee and that you are safe,’ Doctor Jack breathed in relief.

  ‘Where the hell did you come from?’

  Quickly, Doctor Jack explained the why and how of it that he and Minnie had followed after Billy Lee in attempt to warn him of Jethro Bayliss’s coming for him.

  ‘Hot damn!’ cursed Billy Lee. ‘What a tangle. And that’s him out there now with Minnie and Burk’s gang?’

  ‘Indeed,’ said Doctor Jack. ‘They came upon us unsuspecting and took us prisoner whilst on our way up here.’

  Billy Lee stood pondering a moment.

  ‘They’ll take Minnie down to Burk’s place, they have to.’


  Already he could hear men dismounting and crashing into the saloon in search of the shooter.

  ‘They’ll be on to us we don’t get out of here right now. Let’s go pay James Burk a visit before they get there.’

  Chapter Eighteen

  Whilst some of his men burst inside to investigate, Jed Crone stepped down from his pony and walked across to Jethro.

  ‘These your men here?’ he asked, nodding at Barnaby and Les.

  ‘They’re with me,’ Jethro affirmed.

  ‘Well, you’d best tag along with us and we’ll go see the boss. He’ll sure be grateful you picked up Minnie there. He’s been like a bear with a sore head since she made off.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ said Jethro.

  Crone leered across at Minnie, ‘How you doing there, girl. I’ve been looking forward to seeing you again. Maybe we’ll take up where we left off, huh? She’s a peach, ain’t she, boys? Such a plump little diddle, I can’t wait to get me some more.’

  Jethro noted the attitude and did not like it, no matter how Minnie had offended him he was uncomfortable with the gunman’s crude behavior.

  Just then a man stepped out from the saloon, ‘He was here, Mister Crone. Took to shooting at that kid who come told us and then he made off.’

  ‘He’s here,’ growled Crone, spinning on Jethro. ‘I thought you said he wasn’t in there?’

  ‘Well, I didn’t know what he looked like, she said he wasn’t in there.’

  ‘And you trusted her, you dumb fool. Don’t you know she was LaBone’s bedfellow?’

  Jethro was about to make a comeback when Crone turned away, ‘Get the men out here,’ he ordered. ‘Scour this area; he’ll be here somewhere. Hurry up, you assholes! Get to it.’

  As he strode off, Les tugged at Jethro’s sleeve, ‘We don’t want to get into this, Jethro. Those are a mean bunch of fellows, it can only end bad.’

  ‘They’re bad alright,’ Barnaby agreed in a low rumble.

  Jethro frowned, he had a distinctly uncomfortable feeling as well and he felt unnerved and unsure of the situation.

  ‘Where’s Freddie got to?’ he asked.