Lee (The Landon Saga Book 6)

by Tell Cotten

  ***

  A few hours later, I stood in front of a mirror up in our room, looking at my reflection.

  I had just come from the bathhouse, and I was also freshly shaved. I wore a brand new shirt, new pants, and polished boots. Altogether, I had to admit that I looked quite handsome.

  I displayed my Colt on my right hip. It was loaded and ready, but I checked it once more just to be sure.

  I grinned at myself in the mirror. I holstered my Colt, grabbed my hat, and walked out.

  Outside my room in the hallway, I leaned on the railing and looked below.

  I couldn’t help but smile. We had only been open for an hour, and already business was booming.

  Men were lined up at the bar, and all of the tables were full. Waiters hustled about, serving them. Amos and two others were behind the bar, and April was cleaning tables.

  The gaming tables were busy too, and I also noticed several men lingering in the poker room, waiting for a game.

  “Jessica would be proud,” I said to myself softly as I walked down the stairs.

  I exchanged a few pleasantries, and then I made my way over to the poker room. I sat at the center table and smiled at everyone.

  “Shall we get started?” I asked.

  Several men nodded and walked over.

  There was a new deck of cards on the table. While everyone sat down, I grabbed the deck and shuffled.

  ***

  After an hour of playing, I was pretty much even. I had won a few hands, but I’d also lost some.

  I finally got the hand I was waiting for. I had a sure winner, and I bet high. Nobody folded, and the pot grew big.

  Suddenly, I felt a pair of eyes on me. I glanced behind me, and June stood there, looking at me through those big and solemn eyes.

  I was startled, and I almost dropped my cards.

  “Mister Lee,” she said in that soft and clear voice.

  “June, you shouldn’t be in here,” I said sternly.

  “Mister Lee, I gotta go,” she said as she ignored my comment.

  “Go where?” I frowned.

  “I gotta go,” she said again more urgently.

  “Oh. That,” I said, and I gestured at the back door. “Go ahead. The outhouse is out there.”

  “But it’s dark,” she objected.

  “Yes, it does that when the sun goes down.”

  “Ma told me not to go outside when it’s dark.”

  I frowned at her, but June’s face remained the same.

  “Where’s your Ma?”

  “She’s busy, cleaning tables.”

  “Fine,” I muttered. “I’ll take you. Wait until this hand is over.”

  The game had come to an abrupt halt. Everyone was watching us, and I noticed a few frowns.

  “I’m sorry,” I smiled at everybody.

  “How many cards?” The dealer asked.

  “I’ll play these,” I said.

  The dealer nodded and moved to the next player. I started to look at my cards again, but before I could I felt a tug on my shoulder.

  “Mister Lee,” June said. “I gotta go bad.”

  “Wait.”

  “I can’t.”

  The game had halted again, and everyone was frowning at us.

  “You can’t wait two minutes?”

  “No. I gotta go bad, Mister Lee.”

  I frowned at her, and she stared back through those round and solemn eyes.

  “Fine,” I grumbled. “Let’s go.”

  As I stood, I reluctantly tossed my cards facedown onto the table.

  “I fold,” I said, and added, “I’ll be right back.”

  I heard a few mumblings as I took June by the hand and left.

  Chapter nine

  “How long does it take for one little girl to go to the outhouse?” I asked irritably.

  “I’m almost done, Mister Lee,” came the soft and clear voice from inside.

  Several minutes had passed, and the night air was cool. I rubbed my shoulders and shivered while I waited.

  I finally heard a noise. The outhouse door opened, and June stepped out.

  “All done?” I asked as I took her by the hand.

  “Yes. Thank you, Mister Lee.”

  “Don’t mention it,” I said as we hurried back inside.

  April was in the poker room, and she looked worried. But then she spotted us, and a relieved look crossed her face.

  “There you are,” she said sternly. “Where have you been?”

  “She had to go to the outhouse,” I explained.

  April’s eyes grew wide.

  “Oh! I’m so sorry,” she said as she took June’s hand.

  “Forget it,” I said, and then I gestured at the poker table. “Now if you’ll excuse me.”

  “Yes, of course!” April said, and she hurried out of the room, leading June behind her.

  I watched them go, and I sighed as I sat back down at the table.

  “Now, where were we?” I asked with a smile.

  ***

  Usually, when I finally got a good hand, that was a sign that other good hands were about to follow. But, not on this night. I started losing hand after hand, and I had to fold a lot. It became irritating and frustrating.

  Another hour passed, and by then lady luck had completely turned her back on me.

  “Deal me out,” I said as I stood. “I need some coffee.”

  The men nodded, and I walked to the front room.

  Things were busy. All of the tables were occupied, and the room was loud with laughter and chatter.

  I walked over to the bar and caught Amos’s attention.

  “Coffee,” I said.

  He nodded. He poured me a cup and set it on the bar in front of me.

  “How’s the poker game?” He asked.

  “Why do you care?” I scowled.

  “I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I was just making conversation.”

  I grunted in response. I took a swig of coffee, and I grimaced as I burned my tongue.

  “Hot?” Amos asked.

  “Just a little.”

  “I’m sorry if I made it too hot.”

  I didn’t reply. Instead, I shot Amos a dark look, and he moved down the bar and tended to another customer.

  A few minutes passed, and Brian Clark walked over.

  “How’s the game going?”

  “It’s going,” I grumbled.

  Brian frowned thoughtfully. He started to say something, but before he could three men came through the swinging doors. They walked with a swagger and looked arrogant.

  I recognized all three. They were Ike Nash’s men, and Brock Jackson was leading them.

  Brock was one of Ike’s top hands. He stood over six feet tall, and he had a muscled torso with dark hair.

  I had never liked Brock. He had a cocky way about him, and just about anybody could tell that he had a high opinion of himself.

  They paused at the door and looked around.

  Brock smirked when he spotted us, and then his eyes went on down the bar. His eyes lingered on Amos before he glanced around at the rest of the room.

  I narrowed my eyes in suspicion. I wasn’t sure, but it looked like Brock had nodded slightly at Amos.

  I glanced at Amos. His face was emotionless as he came over to us.

  “Those are Ike Nash’s men,” he told us in a hushed voice. “They might cause trouble.”

  “That’s very good, Amos,” I said sarcastically. “If you were a horse, I’d feed you a carrot.”

  A look of anger crossed his face, but I ignored him as I turned towards Brian.

  “When you get the chance, slip out and find Ross,” I murmured. “Whatever happens, he should be here.”

  Brian nodded and moved away from the bar. Meanwhile, I took a swig of coffee and tried to look unconcerned as I watched Brock and his men.

  Chapter ten

  Brian slipped out the back door while Brock and his men made their way to the other end of the bar. Amos serv
ed them drinks, and they leaned against the bar and watched the activity in the room. All three had scornful looks as they sipped their whiskey.

  April appeared from the back, and she didn’t notice them as she walked by. There was a dirty table near them, and she gathered up the dishes and cleaned the table.

  A wolfish look crossed Brock’s face as he watched her, and I narrowed my eyes.

  April had her hands full as she turned and started towards the kitchen. She was walking briskly, but Brock stepped forward and blocked her path.

  “Well! I thought I knew all the girls in town,” he scoffed. “Where’d you come from, little lady?”

  “Excuse me,” I heard April say.

  Brock grinned savagely, and several tense seconds passed. He continued to stare at her, but April kept her eyes downward.

  Brock finally laughed and stepped back to the bar. April seized the opportunity and hurried past them.

  I frowned disapprovingly. Old feelings started to stir within me, but I managed to stay calm.

  Brock finished his drink and walked over to the gaming tables. Meanwhile, his two companions searched the tables, looking for a place to sit down.

  One of them was tall, and the other one was short. They both wore Colts on their hips, and they looked eager to use them.

  All of the tables were taken. They stood there a moment, and I saw them gesture at a table in the back and nod at each other.

  There was an elderly couple occupying the table. They sat huddled together as they ate their supper.

  The short man and tall man walked up to their table. Their movements were slow and deliberate, and just about everyone saw them. Just like that the room got quiet and still.

  The elderly couple was still eating, and they were unaware that anything was happening.

  The two men hovered over the table and sneered down at them. Their backs were to me, so I left the bar and walked quietly towards them.

  “Hey, old man,” I heard Shorty say.

  The elderly couple looked up and spotted them.

  “Yes?” The elderly man asked.

  “You’re sitting at our table.”

  The elderly man stiffened, and a stubborn look crossed his face.

  “You are mistaken,” he said in a firm voice.

  A snarl appeared on Shorty’s face.

  “You calling me a liar?”

  “No, but we’re not moving,” the elderly man declared.

  I now stood directly behind them, and my gun hand hovered naturally over my Colt’s handle.

  I took a quick glance at Brock. He was standing by the gaming tables, and he had an amused look on his face. But his arms were crossed, and it didn’t look like he was going to step in.

  Shorty was about to say something when I cleared my throat and got their attention. They turned around, and as they did the elderly couple stood and moved out of the line of fire.

  “Well now,” Shorty sneered. “If it ain’t the great Lee Mattingly.”

  “That’s me.”

  “I’ve heard you’re some hand with a Colt,” Shorty scoffed.

  “You heard right,” I said, and added, “I’ll have to ask you boys to leave. Now.”

  “What for?” Shorty asked, startled.

  “Harassing the customers.”

  “But we just got here,” Shorty objected.

  “When you got here makes no difference to me,” I replied.

  They didn’t like that. They glanced at each other and looked back at me.

  “And if we don’t?”

  I smiled.

  “You boys have two choices. You can walk outta here, or you can be dragged out. Doesn’t really matter to me.”

  “We ain’t going nowhere.”

  I nodded. My shoulders were relaxed, and I was ready.

  “You have a reputation and all, but that doesn’t matter to us,” Shorty sneered. “You ain’t nothing special.”

  “Funny, I was just thinking the same thing about you.”

  That did it. Shorty’s eyes went hard, and he grabbed for his Colt.

  Shorty was fast. We cleared leather at the same time, and the sound of our Colts blended together.

  My aim was true, but Shorty fired too soon. His bullet tore into the boards at my boots, and I heard a sharp whip as the bullet ricocheted.

  There was a sound of broken glass behind me as I jumped sideways.

  The tall man had fumbled his draw, and he was just bringing his Colt up when I fired into him. The bullet hit him in the chest with a thud, and he went flying backwards into the back wall.

  Shorty was still standing, and he had a shocked look on his face. I started to shoot him again, but he dropped his Colt and crumpled forward before I could.

  Meanwhile, the tall man was leaning against the back wall with a dazed look. A hole in his chest oozed blood out as he slumped to the floor.

  There was a haze of smoke in the room, and I squinted through it. Near as I could tell, both men were dead.

  There was a sound at the door. Brian and Ross appeared behind me, and they held their Colts. Brian covered Brock, who was still standing beside the gaming tables.

  A heavy silence held the room while the smoky haze lifted. All eyes were on me as I took the spent shells from my Colt and put new ones in.

  I walked over to Brock with my Colt in hand, and Brian and Ross were behind me.

  Brock had uncrossed his arms, and his hand hovered over his gun handle. I could tell by the expression on his face that he was tempted to go for it.

  “Wave at the angels before you do something stupid,” I said sternly.

  A confused look crossed his face.

  “What?” He asked roughly.

  I sighed and explained, “Hold your hands up.”

  “Oh,” Brock said, and he slowly raised his hands to shoulder height. “That was nice shooting, Lee,” he drawled.

  “You’re leaving,” I said as I ignored his comment. “Now.”

  “Why me? I ain’t causing any trouble.”

  “My hotel. My rules.”

  Brock made an odd snorting sound. I wasn’t sure, but I think it was an attempt at a laugh.

  “All right. I’ll leave if that’s what you want.”

  “That’s what I want.”

  “But I ain’t leaving because I’m scared.”

  “Long as you leave, I don’t care what mood you’re in.”

  Brock smiled at that.

  “We’ll see each other again,” he said.

  “And I hope you try something too,” I replied sarcastically. “I’d enjoy the practice.”

  Brock grunted in response as he walked towards the door.

  Soon as he was gone, Brian glanced at me.

  “‘Wave at the angels’?” He asked softly.

  “I just thought it up on the spot, real quick like,” I explained.

  “I could tell.”

  Chapter eleven

  Ross wanted to know what happened, so I told him briefly how the events played out. He didn’t say much, but I could tell that he disapproved. Afterwards he left, saying that he wanted to write a report so he could fill in Rondo when he returned.

  I spotted Amos behind the bar. He had a disturbed look, but he changed expressions when he saw me watching him.

  “Amos,” I called out. “Go get the undertaker.”

  “Who? Me?”

  “Is there anybody else named Amos working here?” I glared at him.

  “Oh. No. I’m sorry,” Amos stammered, and he hurried towards the door.

  I narrowed my eyes as I watched him.

  “Have you noticed how Amos is always apologizing?” I asked Brian in a quiet voice.

  “He probably doesn’t want to get fired.”

  “I don’t think so,” I disagreed. “A man who apologizes all the time means he knows something we don’t.”

  Brian snorted.

  “Aw, you’re just getting superstitious.”

  “Time will tell,” I replied. I
t was silent, and I added, “I could use some coffee.”

  Brian nodded in agreement. I started towards the bar, but then I stopped abruptly. The mirror behind the bar had been shattered, and broken glass was everywhere.

  “What happened to our mirror?” My mouth fell open.

  “Looks like it got hit,” Brian observed.

  “I can see that,” I frowned. “But who did it?”

  Brian gestured at the two dead men.

  “It was probably one of them.”

  I shook my head in disgust.

  “Of all the things in here, did they have to hit the mirror?” I complained.

  “I reckon they could have hit you instead,” Brian tried to be helpful.

  “That mirror cost a small fortune,” I said as I ignored his comment.

  “Yes, Lee. I know. I’m the one who paid for it.”

  I shook my head again and grunted in displeasure.

  ***

  Brian and I sat at our corner table. We were drinking coffee, and I was also smoking a cigar. Our faces were glum as we looked at the wall where our mirror had been.

  The excitement had caused all of our customers to leave. The place was a mess, so we closed early.

  The undertaker had just arrived. He had two helpers with him, and they rolled Shorty and the tall man up into tarps and dragged them out.

  Meanwhile, Amos brought out a mop and started cleaning up the blood while April swept up the broken glass.

  I took a swig of coffee as I watched them, and then I sighed.

  “Things didn’t go so well tonight,” I muttered.

  “I’ll agree with that.”

  “Things are bound to get better. It can’t get any worse.”

  “It can’t?” Brian shot me a questioning look.

  “For our sakes, it’d better not,” I replied, and asked, “Can we afford to replace the mirror?”

  “No,” Brian said matter-of-factly. “Least not for a while.”

  I frowned as I took a deep puff on my cigar.

  “The bar looks sorta odd without a mirror.”

  “We’ll get used to it.”

  “When you think about it, having a mirror behind the bar really makes no sense,” I reasoned.

  “How’s that?” Brian glanced at me with a confused look.