by L. J. Martin
I manage to get the other barrel discharged in their direction before a slug takes the shotgun out of my hand and a piece of my forearm with it.
Still, I’m able to empty the Colt before a cloud passes over my eyes, and all goes black and deathly silent.
Someone is holding my hand. I believe I’m conscious but fear opening my eyes. I hope the hand-holder is not a demon leading me into the molten rock and sulfur stench of hell. But I don’t smell sulfur. In fact, I smell lilacs. I doubt if there’re lilacs in hell, so maybe it's an angel leading me to the pearly gates. My tongue is so dry I fear it’ll break if I try and give it a wiggle, and my mouth tastes as if someone has been spooning me jackass corral leavings, and dry ones at that.
I try and pry my eyes open but there’s such a bright light I have to shut them tightly.
“Oh, he’s awakening,” a voice says, and my hand is dropped and I hear curtains being drawn. Now when I try and pry my lids apart, the burning light is gone. The sun, pouring through a window into a room smelling of lilacs, and onto the now again seated woman who is not an angel leading me to the pearly gates, but Pearly—who looks like an angel to me.
“You're awake,” she says, and gives me a smile.
“Water,” I manage.
“Ray!” she calls, then turns back to me. “You don’t try and move. I’ve got to go.”
“Go, you just got here,” I croak.
“No, sir, you just got here. You been out for more’n two days.”
“Why do you have to go?” I ask, as Ray sidles up to the bed and lifts my head enough so I can sip from the water glass he’s pressing up to my lips.
Pearl lays a soft hand on my shoulder, and gives me a smile that turns to a wince and she almost doubles over.
“What’s the matter?” I ask, alarmed.
“My water done broke and Dr. Whittle is waiting.”
“Your water…the baby?” I ask.
“Yes, sir. You get back to sleep and Ray will bring you some soup. I’m going to be busy a while.”
“That’s an understatement,” another voice calls out. “Let’s go Pearl. You don’t want to birth that baby in front of these men.” I realize it’s Madam Allenthorpe’s voice.
And Pearl’s gone, and Ray replaces her in the chair, and Chance O’Galliger moves up behind him.
“You’re gonna be fine,” Chance says. “I’ve got most of a hundred dollars riding on it. There’s a pool set up over at Angels…that’s our saloon…and I took the longest time.”
“The longest time?” I mumble.
“Yep, the longest time as to when you would die. Looks like you’re going to live, so I’m going to win.”
“Well, congratulations. I’m real proud you won. How long have I been here?”
“You’ve been unconscious two days. You lost lots of blood, taking one through the side like you did and breaking two rib bones. Not to speak of your broke wing.”
I try to move my left arm and realize it’s strapped down to a body well wrapped in bandages.
“I can see Ray is okay.”
He gives me a grin. “Fine as Sunday morn’n. Thought they was gonna hang me for a while, but Judge Gilbert—”
“Johnathan Gilbert?”
“Yep, he’s the new territorial judge. Appointed by Lincoln, came out from Philadelphia. Surprised you didn’t meet up with him on the Glasgow.
I have to chuckle, even though it pains my ribs. “Hell, I played cards with him for a thousand miles.”
“That’s what Doc Whittle said," Chance adds. "He saved your ugly hide.”
“And Skunk and the Hessians?”
“You kilt Proust and you or I kilt Hauss…and one of us shot Skunk through the leg. They had to hold him up to get the noose on him.”
“Noose? Hell, I thought he was the law.”
“He was, but Judge Gilbert swore in a new Territorial Marshal while Skunk was laid up and the new boy, name of Sam Sullivan, arrested Skunk right there in his bed and they tried him the next day and done strung him up yesterday.”
“For what?”
“Seems like he and the land man, McFadden, were trying to buy out an old boy, Horace Bartelsville, who started farming on some fine bottom land down river a ways. He wouldn’t sell and they shot him down like a dog. Seems they wanted to start another town as his farm fronts the river and has a natural quay for nearly a mile. They didn’t know his woman was watching from a hideout up under the meadow hay in the loft, where she’d taken the kids. I guess McFadden had caused the folks concern a time or two before. His woman and her kids got away and hid out up at The Louisiana Palace with that mulatto woman until she heard there was a new judge come to town. She and her five kids all testified…youngest only five you couldn’t understand for her wailing, but she did. McFadden will be tried tomorrow.”
Chance interrupts Ray. “You want some soup?” he asks. “Good chicken soup. Pearl made it just for you. Said it used to be your favorite.”
“I could take a cup, maybe. Right now I want to go back to sleep…but a cup first. And, Ray, wake me when Pearl...when Pearl...so I know how Pearly is doing.”
And I do manage to get a cup down and get back to sleep.
When I awake, Doc Whittle is standing over me.
“Howdy Doc. Sorry to cause you all this trouble.”
“Trouble? That son of yours was a lot more trouble than you.”
“Son?”
“Yep. Miss Pearl said he was Braden Allenthorpe McTavish. A fine looking young man.”
“Damn. He got all his toes and fingers and such?”
“He does.”
Ray is right behind him, and adds, “Yeah, he’s damn near as ugly as you, but don’t have all the scars yet.”
I can’t seem to keep the grin off my face as Chance enters the room. “I got another cup of this fine chicken soup. You better get some down before Ray and I lick the pot clean.”
I’m getting concerned as it seems all I can do is sleep, and more so as Pearl has yet to come to see me. So, sleep I do.
It’s two more days before I can sit up, and do to see Pearl holding a bundle. “Mr. McTavish, this is Mr. McTavish,” and places the baby on my chest. I wince, and she grabs him back up.
“Oh, we didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“Set him back down there. I want to see if he’s as ugly as Ray says.”
“I’ll slap that Ray silly,” she says, but she’s grinning.
“How come you didn’t come right away?” I ask.
“You ever birthed an eleven pound boy? I was down awhile.”
“I’m glad you’re here,” I say, admiring the lad. He has a straight McTavish nose and small Irish ears...and except for his caramel color, I don't believe I could deny him. Not that I'd want to.
“Fact is, we’re glad you’re here,” she says, “a boy needs a daddy,” and bends down and gives me a peck on the cheek. “I got to get this baby on his mama’s tit. You get back to sleep.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
But I can’t as Ian stomps into the room. “You left me outta all the fun. How some ever, I just got to watch that highbinder, McFadden swing in the breeze.”
“Him too, this town seems to like to hang ’em high. I didn’t know the gentlemen.”
“Well, I know the young man who worked for him and done took the land office over. He’s seems an honest lad. I put a deposit down on the Bartlesville place. The widow made me a fair deal, and we got it bought. And I filed a homestead on the forty next to it and you and Pearl can file on eighty it up. That’ll give us a section of fine land, almost three twenty of bottom land and that much grazing. Kinda reminds me of Kerry County, Ireland.”
“What about the gold fields?” I ask, a little amazed as all he’s been able to talk about for a year is grubbin’ for gold. He seems even more excited now.
“Braden McTavish,” he says, looking down his nose at me, “you’re a family man, or you will be officially as soon as you hitch up with Pearl, and yo
u can’t go running off. Besides, I always wanted to be an uncle and I think farming's a lot better than losing your hair. The Blackfeet are raising hell west of here. I hear the Arapaho are hunting scalps on farther south.”
I have to shake my head, as I guess my future is planned out for me. At least I think so, until Judge Johnathan Gilbert comes to call.
It’s been two weeks and I’m just now able to take a chair at the table, and we talk about our trip, and our card games, and chess for a while, before he asks me, “Braden, you’re a smart young man, you picked up chess quickly, you're articulate in a country sort of way and seem to be a hard worker. You've proven yourself to be brave...and to tell the truth, open-minded. It's not many men who'd honor fatherhood when the mother was a woman of color. Don't get me wrong. You know that folks who’ll laugh and stomp when she sings will not share a supper table with her. I think Pearl is a wonderful, talented girl...but you both have a hard row of stumps to dig as many folks aren't going to take kindly—"
"I know that, judge. I've thought long and hard on it, but I'm raising my son. And to hell with folks. Besides, I've always...I've always been...as long as I can remember I've—"
"Been in love with Pearl. I understand, she's a lovely young lady." He gives me a tight smile, and nods...his approval, I believe. Then he continues, "I hear you’ve filed on a homestead as has Pearl, her brother Raymond, and Ian…and I understand it’s a fine piece of land you’ve chosen. But it’s only two miles downriver and you could be in town everyday should you desire. How would you like to read the law with me?”
I’m complimented he would ask.
“That’s a fine compliment, Judge, but I only got through the eighth grade.”
“That’s quite aways farther than President Lincoln got.”
That makes me laugh, and wonder if I couldn’t do it.
“How long would it take?” I ask.
“Probably three or four years...maybe five, depending on how much time you can give it. You can work the farm at the same time.”
“Hell, Judge, I’ll be twenty-six or twenty-seven in four years, probably halfway through my life, if I study law with you.”
“True, Braden. That’s true. But let me ask, how old will you be in four years if you don’t study law with me?”
I guess he’s got a point.
THE END
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About the Author
L. J. Martin is the author of over three dozen works of both fiction and non-fiction from Bantam, Avon, Pinnacle and his own Wolfpack Publishing. He lives in, and loves, Montana with his wife, NYT bestselling romantic suspense author Kat Martin. He’s been a horse wrangler, cook as both avocation and vocation, volunteer firefighter, real estate broker, general contractor, appraiser, disaster evaluator for FEMA, and traveled a good part of the world, some in his own ketch. A hunter, fisherman, photographer, cook, father and grandfather, he’s been car and plane wrecked, visited a number of jusgados and a road camp, and survived cancer twice. He carries a bail-enforcement, bounty hunter, shield. He knows about what he writes about, and tries to write about what he knows.
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Other Works by L. J. Martin
Windfall. From the boardroom to the bedroom, David Drake has fought his way…nearly…to the top. From the jungles of Vietnam, to the vineyards of Napa, to the grit and grime of the California oil fields, he's clawed his way up. The only thing missing is the woman he's loved most of his life. Now, he's going to risk it all to win it all, or end up on the very bottom where he started. This business adventure-thriller will leave you breathless.
Bloodlines. When an ancient document is found deep under the streets of Manhattan, no one can anticipate the wild results. A businessman is forced to search deep into his past and reach back to those who once were wronged, and redeem for them what is right and just. There's a woman he's yearned for, and must have, but all is against them…and someone want him dead.
The Repairman. No. 1 on Amazon's crime list! Got a problem? Need it fixed? Call Mike Reardon, the repairman, just don't ask him how he'll get it done. Trained as a Recon Marine to search and destroy, he brings those skills to the tough streets of America's cities. If you like your stories spiced with fists, guns, and beautiful women, this is the fast paced novel for you.
The Bakken No. 1 on Amazon's crime list! The stand-alone sequel to The Repairman. Mike Reardon gets a call from his old CO in Iraq, who's now a VP at an oil well service company in North America's hottest boomtown, and dope and prostitution is running wild and costing the company millions, and the cops are overwhelmed. If you have a problem, and want it fixed, call the repairman…just don't ask him what he's gonna do.
G5, Gee Whiz When a fifty million dollar G5 is stolen and flown out of the country, who you gonna call? If you have a problem, and want it fixed, call the repairman…just don't ask him what he's gonna do.
Who's On Top Mike Reardon thinks his new gig, finding an errant daughter of a NY billionaire will be a laydown...how wrong can one guy be? She's tied up with an eco-terrorist group, who proves to be much more than that. And this time, the group he's up against may be bad guys, or kids with their heart in the right place. Who gets lead and who gets a kick in the backside. And if things go wrong, the whole country may be at risk! Another kick-ass Repairman Mike Reardon thriller from acclaimed author L. J. Martin.
Target Shy & Sexy What's easier for a search and destroy guy than a simple bodyguard gig, particularly when the body being guarded is on of America's premiere country singers and the body is knockdown beautiful...until she's abducted while he's on his way to report for his new assignment. Who'd have guessed that the hunt for his employer would lead him into a nest of hard ass Albanians and he'd find himself between them and some bent nose boys from Vegas! Another in the highly acclaimed The Repairman Series...Mike Reardon is at it again.
Judge, Jury, Desert Fury. Back in the fray, only this time it's as a private contractor. Mike
Reardon and his buddies are hired to free a couple of American's held captive by a Taliban mullah, and, as usual, it's duck, dodge and kick ass when everyone in the country wants a piece of you. Don't miss this high action adventure by renowned author L. J. Martin. No. 6 in The Repairman series, each book stands alone.
Quiet Ops. "…knows crime and how to write about it…you won't put this one down." Elmore Leonard
L. J. Martin with America's No. 1 bounty hunter, Bob Burton, brings action-adventure in double doses. From Malibu to West Palm Beach, Brad Benedick hooks 'em up and haul 'em in…in chains.
Crimson Hit. Dev Shannon loves his job, travels, makes good money, meets interesting
people…then hauls them in cuffs and chains to justice. Only this time it's personal.
Bullet Blues. Shannon normally doesn't work in his hometown, but this time it's a friend who's gone missing, and he's got to help…if he can stay alive long enough. Tracking down a stolen yacht, which takes him all the way to Jamaica, he finds himself deep in the dirty underbelly of the drug trade.
The Clint Ryan Series:
El Lazo. John Clinton Ryan, young, fresh to the sea from Mystic, Connecticut, is shipwrecked on the California coast…and blamed for the catastrophe. Hunted by the hide, horn and tallow captains, he escapes into the world of the vaquero, and soon gains the name El Lazo, for his skill with the lasso. A classic western tale of action and adventure, and the start of the John Clinton Ryan, the Clint Ryan series.
Against the 7th Flag. Clint Ryan, now skilled with horse and reata, finds himself caught up in the war of California revolution, Manifest Destiny is on the march, and he's in the middle of the fray, with friends on one side and count
rymen on the other…it's fight or be killed, but for whom?
The Devil's Bounty. On a trip to buy horses for his new ranch in the wilds of swampy Central California, Clint finds himself compelled to help a rich Californio don who's beautiful daughter has been kidnapped and hauled to the barracoons of the Barbary Coast. Thrown in among the Chinese tongs, Australian Sidney Ducks, and the dredges of the gold rush failures, he soon finds an ally in a slave, now a newly freedman, and it's gunsmoke and flashing blades to fight his way to free the senorita.
The Benicia Belle. Clint signs on as master-at-arms on a paddle wheeler plying the Sacramento from San Francisco to the gold fields. He's soon blackmailed by the boats owner and drawn to a woman as dangerous and beautiful as the sea he left behind. Framed for a crime he didn't commit, he has only one chance to exact a measure of justice and…revenge.
Shadow of the Grizzly. "Martin has produced a landlocked, Old West version of Peter Benchley's Jaws," Publisher's Weekly. When the Stokes brothers, the worst kind of meat hunters, stumble on Clint's horse ranch, they are looking to take what he has. A wounded griz is only trying to stay alive, but he's a horrible danger to man and beast. And it's Clint, and his crew, including a young boy, who face hell together.
