by Joe Corso
“Since you were so busy admiring your new pearls, I brought Charles his breakfast,” Mildred chided. “Now you taste my flapjacks, Charles Longstreet, and you tell me if they’re not the best flapjacks you’ve ever tasted.”
Charlie bit into a healthy forkful of flapjacks loaded with maple syrup. “Mmmm, these are truly the best flapjacks I have ever tasted, Mildred, and that’s no lie. You should enter your flapjacks in the flapjack-tasting contest if Virginia City ever has such an event.” Charlie looked around the room. Mildred was happy with her golden teapot, Ezra loved his good Canadian whiskey, and Abby was still looking in the mirror at her necklace - and musical sounds could be heard coming from a harmonica being played outside somewhere by a little boy. This was a truly memorable morning, Charlie thought, and wouldn’t it be nice if everyday could be just as nice?
“Come on, Charlie, let’s take a walk, and I’ll show you around the farm while Ma cleans the dishes.”
Once they were outside, Abby took Charlie’s hand, and they walked slowly around the perimeter of the farm with Abby pointing here and there and explaining to Charlie what her father’s intentions were with the farm. The two lovers walked around to the back of the barn and Abby guided Charlie to a thicket behind the barn. They walked about fifty feet in until a thick blanket of foliage covered them. She must have had this planned because there was a basket hidden under a tree with a blanket in it. She spread the blanket out in a small clearing beside a large tree hidden by the dense foliage and lay down on it. She looked up at Charlie, who was standing, and she patted the blanket beside her. Charlie smiled, knowing what was to come. He lay down beside her and pulled her to him and he kissed her tenderly, tasting her sweet lips. Then he kissed her again harder and longer while she frantically unbuttoned his shirt and pants and she raised her dress high so he could get at her without any obstructions other than her panties, which Charlie expertly pulled off in an instant. With nothing between them, Charlie mounted her and she groaned with ecstasy. It was funny, Charlie thought, you could have a hundred women, but then you find one with whom the chemistry between the two of you is pure magic - and so it was with Abby and Charlie. Each felt that something special took place every time they made love. It was chemistry, and Charlie knew that Abby was the woman he wanted above all others. This is the woman I will marry, he thought. Then he thought of Cynthia back in St. Louis and for a brief moment, he longed to see her again, but the thought vanished when his hand caressed the warm body of the beautiful woman lying beside him. He decided he would ask her to marry him after he concluded his business with Parker. As that thought flitted through his mind, his passions cooled. “Come on. Let’s get back,” he said brusquely to Abby, startling her. He hadn’t intended to be brusque; it was the last thing he wanted to do. He wanted to be tender, not gruff with her. Oh well, he thought. I’ll make it up to her when this business with Parker is finished.
CHAPTER 15
Charlie’s first stop was the sheriff’s office. He popped his head in the door to see if the sheriff was in. “Come on in, Charlie. What’s on your mind?”
“Do me a favor, sheriff. Some friends of mine are coming in on the eleven thirty train. They’re a rough lot and I wanted to be sure that there are no wanted posters on them.”
“They won’t be causing me any trouble, will they?”
“No, sheriff. They came to help me with Parker and his men. I’m about to get bushwhacked. Parker means to kill me and I can’t prevent it from happening unless I have help from my friends. However, I will promise you this; my friends won’t cause you any trouble. But just so you know, I intend to give them all of Parker’s wealth. No one else will be touched but Parker and his cowboys. You must have heard that he’s been hiring gun hands and offering them a lot of money to kill me. He offered the last two men five thousand dollars each to kill me. Gave ‘em half up front. I don’t want a repeat of that. I want it to end.”
The sheriff was silent for a minute. “You know that I will not allow anything illegal to happen in my town - but I also don’t condone hired killers coming after friends of mine.” He looked into Charlie’s eyes. “I’ll look the other way when it comes to Parker, but I don’t want any gunplay in my town, if it can be helped. If it happens outside of town, I won’t be coming after you or your boys.” Then he added, “Look, Kid. Sometimes shit happens. As long as it’s not something that’s started by you or your friends, I’ll let it go. Now give me their names and I’ll check the wanted posters.”
Charlie took a deep breath. He wondered what the sheriff would say after he heard the names. “Jesse and Frank James, the Younger brothers, Charlie Pitts, William Chaldwell, and Clell Miller.”
The sheriff threw his pencil on the desk. “Charlie, these men are wanted in half of the states for numerous crimes. Bank robbery, stage holdups, train robbery.” Then he calmed down and said, “I know, I know. I’ll check their names against my posters now. After looking through all the wanted posters, the names were clean. They weren’t wanted for any crimes in Montana territory. “Okay, they’re clean. No wanted posters in Montana territory, so I’ll keep my word and look the other way. But keep your trouble out of my town if you can help it. Understand?”
“I understand, sheriff, and I appreciate it.”
Charlie had been waiting at the station for three hours. The train was supposed to arrive at around eleven thirty am. It was now two thirty in the afternoon. He walked into the station and approached the stationmaster. “Have you found out anything about the eleven thirty train?”
“I just received a telegraph wire that the train was delayed in St. Joe waiting for some passengers and their horses to board.” As the clerk was about to telegraph the nearest station up line to inquire if there was any new information, a whistle sounded in the distance.
It was the eleven thirty train from Missouri. Fifteen minutes later, the train, billowing steam and smoke, pulled to a screeching stop. The conductors pulled a removable step from the train and placed it by the steps so passengers could step down onto the platform. Charlie waited and then he heard his name called. He looked around and saw Cole waving to him. “Cole, am I glad to see you!”
“Same here Charlie. The rest of the boys are in the back, waiting to get the horses unloaded.”
“What boys? Frank and Jesse?”
Cole laughed. “Yep, and I also brung the family you asked me to bring. Charlie Pitts, Bill Chaldwell, Clell Miller, and my brother Bob. Now, while the boys are getting the horses, why don’t you tell me about what kind of trouble you went and got yourself into?”
“Well, Cole, meaning no disrespect to you, I think it’s best that we wait for the other boys so everyone can hear what I have to tell them.”
Unexpectedly, another voice boomed out over the thinning platform. “Charles Longstreet. Let me see what you look like.” Charlie turned to see who called his name and he could see a vague outline of a figure walking through the billowing steam. It was Ned Buntline.
Cole apologized to Charlie. “Gee, Charlie, in my excitement to see you, I plumb forgot to mention that Ned Buntline insisted on coming along with us. Said he could smell a story here.”
Just then, Buntline pushed Cole aside and embraced Charlie like a son. He squeezed Charlie so tight he could hardly breathe.
“Enough, already.” Charlie pointed his finger at Buntline. “I should shoot you right now and get it over with.” He shook his finger like his schoolteacher did to him. “I promised myself that I would kill the dirty cur who wrote that scandalous book about me. Do you know how many men tried to kill me and how many I had to kill because of it? Hell, in every town I go to, I hear the three taps and I know that someone is challenging me.”
Buntline put up his hand for Charlie to stop talking. Charlie thought Buntline must be feeling a little guilty, but then Ned pulled out a pad from his jacket’s inner pocket and said, “Okay, now, start where you left off and I’ll take notes.”
Charlie had to laugh. “Doesn
’t anything penetrate that thick skull of yours?”
Buntline returned the smile. “Not when there’s a story to be told. And you, my boy, have a wonderful story for me to tell my readers. Look, Charlie, when this problem is worked out, I have something planned for you that you’re going to love.”
Charlie waved his hand. “I don’t want to hear it. Don’t say another word.”
By then, the other men had arrived and were laughing and pointing at Charlie. “The Lone Jack Kid in person and he’s standing right here in front of us. Maybe if we’re lucky, he’ll give us his autograph.” They laughed so hard, they had to sit while Charlie - the butt of the joke - was laughing just as hard as they were. Frank James put his arm around Charlie while Jesse stood in the background, smiling. “We really missed you, Charlie, and we’re real glad to see you. Now where can we talk privately?”
“Let’s head down to the saloon. There’s a back room there that we can use.”
THE PARKER RANCH
“I know you told me not to come back until I knew all of his daily routines. But I thought you should know that he met some men at the train station and took them to the hotel with him. They went into the back room, but I couldn’t hear what they were saying, so I figured I’d come here and tell you.”
Parker lit a cigar. “You did the right thing, Hank. Go back and see if you can find out who Longstreet’s friends are.”
Jesse listened to Charlie, but was getting impatient when he didn’t hear what he came to Virginia City for. “Excuse me for interrupting, Charlie, but you mentioned a business opportunity in your wire. What exactly were you talking about?”
“I plumb forgot about that. Glad you reminded me, Jess. There’s this fella Ted Parker who’s a very, very rich man and he’s out to kill me. He owns most of the mines, most of the land, and most of the stores in town. He’s the largest and richest landowner within a thousand miles of here and when we’re finished with him, and you boys go back home, you’ll take his wealth with you.”
Jesse smiled. “I had a good feeling about coming here. Now how are we gonna go about extracting all of his wealth from him?”
Charlie gave Jesse a tight-lipped smile. “That’s easy, Jesse. We’re gonna sell him back his life in exchange for his wealth.”
Jesse stomped his foot and banged the table with his fist and with a shit-eating grin on his face he said, “Damn, but I like that plan.”
When Charlie finished telling the boys his story, Buntline, who had been taking copious notes, rubbed his hands in glee. “I have big plans for you, my boy. Now that I know that you are residing here in Virginia City, I will keep in touch with you by the telegraph.” Buntline pointed a stubby finger at Longstreet. “Son, you are a horse that still needs to be ridden. There a whole lot more to write about you than even I, as farsighted as I am, could have ever imagined. My second book on the adventures of the Lone Jack Kid has just been published. I reckon it will take a month or two before it gets out here to the West. And now that I have heard of your adventures, I have enough information for two or three more Lone Jack books. My boy, I’ll make you more famous than General Grant.”
“Whoa there a moment, Ned. Lighten up a bit. I still have one more battle to fight. Let me get past this and then we’ll talk about all the trouble those new books of yours are going to cause me.”
Buntline pulled a gun from his belt and opened the barrel to check it, and then he said in a booming voice, “If you think for one minute that you boys are going to hog all of the fun without me coming along with you, then you have another guess coming - because Ned Buntline the fearless writer and publisher of the Lone Jack Kid books intends to fight right alongside you boys. And besides, it’ll make good copy for my book.”
Cole then added, “Do you think this time you can get your gun out of your holster in time to fire a shot at someone?”
The room erupted in laughter - and Ned Buntline, who was known for his short temper, laughed along with the boys.
“Good, that’s settled, then,” he said. “And it’s a good thing that I’m coming along with you high strung boys. You need a cool head like me with you to guide you boys properly.” Whether Buntline was serious or joking, no one could tell, but Frank almost choked on his drink laughing so hard and even Jesse, who many thought had no sense of humor, managed to smile at the ludicrousness of Buntline’s remark.
CHAPTER 16
The door to the back room opened and the boys sauntered out and headed to the bar for drinks. Joe leaned over the bar and asked Charlie who his friends were. “Joe, you’re gonna get the surprise of your life when I introduce you to them. Fellas,” Longstreet said loud enough for his friends to hear. “This is my friend Joe. He saved my life a few days ago from a dirty lowdown back-shooting scoundrel. Joe, say ‘hello’ to Frank and Jesse James.” Joe’s eyes almost popped out of his head when he heard who they were. “And this is Cole Younger and his brother Bob - and this rascal over here is Charlie Pitts, that good looking fella over there is Bill Chaldwell, and say ‘hello’ to Clell Miller.”
Joe shook all of their hands. “It’s a privilege to meet you boys.” He reached under the bar, brought up two bottles, and laid them on the bar. “This is the good stuff, fellas, not the watered down shit I serve some of my other customers - and the drinks are on me.” Joe poured the drinks and the boys lifted their glasses.
“To Joe,” Cole added. “Any friend of Charlie’s is a friend of his friends.”
“Here, here,” they cheered. Unknown to the boys, Hank heard everything said. He put his drink on the table and casually walked to the exit. Joe noticed him leaving.
“Parker’s foreman is just leaving. He must have heard what we said and he’s probably heading back to his ranch to tell him. Hank wanted me to let him in the back room but I stopped him, said it was being used.” Cole looked at Charlie. “Do you want me to stop him?”
“No let him go. Parker will find out about you boys soon enough.”
Cole shrugged his shoulders. “If that’s the way you want to play it.”
“The sheriff is a friend of mine. He said he’d turn a blind eye as long as we don’t cause trouble. He doesn’t like the idea of Parker running roughshod over everyone, so he’ll make allowances when it comes to us.”
THE PARKER RANCH
“Boss, you’re not going to believe who was on the eleven thirty train.” Parker leaned forward in his chair listening intently to every word Hank said. “I followed Longstreet to the sheriff’s office, and when he came out, he walked to the train station. He never noticed that I was following him. After waiting for the train for two hours, it would have been hard for me to justify why I was hanging around there, so I left and waited down the street by the pool hall. I knew they’d have to pass me when they left the station and came into town. They had their horses with them on the train and they walked them down to the hotel and tied them to the post. Then they entered the hotel and Joe let them use the back room. I tried to go in there, but he stopped me. Said the room was occupied, so I waited at a table near the bar figuring that when the meeting was over, they’d have a drink. I still didn’t know who the men were until he introduced them to Joe. Hold onto your hat, boss. Do you know who they were?” Hank didn’t wait for Parker to answer. “The men Longstreet met were Jesse and Frank James and Cole and Bob Younger. There was Charlie Pitts and Bill Chaldwell with them and another guy whose name I forget. Wait a minute! Now I remember; his name’s Clell Miller.”
Parker got up from his chair and paced the floor. “What the hell do these men have to do with Charles Longstreet? And what do they expect to gain from helping him? These men are notorious gunman, not the sort of riff-raff we’ve been dealing with in town. This changes everything - now I’ve got to change my plans. You know, Hank, I’ve let my obsession with Longstreet get in the way of logic. It’s too late to change my plans. But now that his pals have arrived, I’ll have to think of some other way to stop Longstreet from meddling in my affairs.�
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Joe poured another shot and the boys raised their glasses and Cole made another toast. “Here’s to a successful end to our endeavor.” Suddenly, the boys heard the Tap Tap Tap of something hitting metal.
“Here we go again,” Charlie said as he looked around to see who the challenger was.
A man standing by the door shoved a table out of his way. “I’m challenging you, Kid. You men at the bar better stand back if you don’t want to get hit with the lead that’s about to fly. I’m ready anytime you are, Kid.” No one said a word as they looked at the challenger. When the man went for his gun, the men at the bar jerked their shooting irons out as quick as lightning and the flash of bullets leaving their barrels lit up the room like a dozen twinkling fireflies as each bullet hit the man, causing him to slam into the wall behind him and collapse in a heap, dead before he hit the floor. The men paid him no mind; instead, they turned and motioned to Joe that their glasses were empty. Frank turned to Charlie. “Is it always like this?”
“Yeah. Only most times it’s worse. And it’s all because Buntline here put that bullshit of the three taps in the book.”
Clell Miller picked up his drink and raised it in Charlie’s direction. “Well, then. It’s a good thing we decided come out here to visit you.”
Suddenly, the swinging doors flew open and the sheriff stormed into the room. He stopped in his tracks when he saw the dead man lying on the floor. “What happened?” he asked.
Joe spoke up from behind the bar. “That crazy bastard challenged these boys to a duel and before you could say ‘shit,’ he pulled his gun. These boys just defended themselves, sheriff.”
Sheriff Wheeler looked around at the people in the room who were sitting quietly nursing their drinks. “Anyone else see the shooting?” A few men stood and said that they had seen it. And when questioned about it, they all swore it happened the way Joe said it did. “All right I heard enough.” The sheriff pointed to four men. “You four take him to the undertakers.” They picked up the dead man and carried him toward the door. “Tell the undertaker to take his possessions as his fee.” The men nodded and walked out through the swinging doors, carrying the dead cowboy.
