The RECKONING: A Jess Williams Western

by Robert J. Thomas

  ***

  Hank Beard and Blake Taggert had left Tarkenton about two weeks after they had arrived there. They headed for Red Rock first. Blake still had some family there. The plan was for all three of them to meet up at the Taggert house in Red Rock after a while. Hank was in Red Rock for less than a week when he heard from his old pal Ben Grady, who was in a small town in Texas called Timber. Grady had wired a message to Taggert’s family for Hank figuring they would get it to him sooner or later. Hank wired him back and they continued to send some messages back and forth. Ben Grady had a plan to rob the man he worked for in Timber and wanted Hank in on the deal. Hank thought it was a good way to make some quick money so he agreed to meet Grady.

  “So, are you heading for Timber?” Taggert asked Beard.

  “I guess so,” he replied. “We’re running low on funds. Hell, we haven’t robbed anyone or anything in a while. We’ll have to do something soon or we’ll all have to get a real job.”

  “No chance of that happening,” replied Taggert plainly. “I ain’t working for money as long as I can take someone else’s.”

  “Hey, barkeep, how about two more whiskeys?” asked Beard, waving at the barkeep. Beard and Taggert had been bellied up to the bar in one of the saloons in Red Rock for over two hours and both of them had had their share of whiskey.

  “Well, one of us has got to do something,” added Beard. “That dog Randy hasn’t done a thing but chase skirts back in Tarkenton. I ain’t seen any money from him or you.”

  “Simmer down,” replied Taggert. “I told you I had a plan to rob that family out the other side of town. I hear they keep their money hidden in the house ‘cause they’re afraid of putting the money in the bank.”

  “Yeah, well planning is one thing and doing is another,” retorted Beard. “You best get to it and real soon.”

  “You can count on it,” he replied deviously. “You know what else they got there?”

  “What?”

  “A nice young pretty daughter,” he replied with an evil smile on his face. “She looks to be about fourteen and pretty as a cactus flower.”

  “You just can’t pass up a pretty face, can you?” asked Beard. “Why can’t you pick on some older women instead of the young ones? I didn’t like what you did to that little one back in Black Creek.”

  “Hastings in the one who shot her after I was finished with her,” he argued, as if that made what he did okay. “Anyway, I hear this family has several hundred dollars stashed.”

  “We can sure use it,” said Beard. “I’m going to head for Timber in the next few days and if that works out as planned, we’ll have enough money to take care of all three of us for quite some time.” They finished their whiskeys and ordered two more.

  ***

  Jess headed southwest and made camp at dusk. He woke at dawn and rode for about two weeks without seeing a soul. That kind of solitude bothered some men, but Jess rather enjoyed it. It gave him a lot of time to think and to practice with his pistol. One morning, he had ridden only about two hours before he finally crested the top of a hill and looked down on a lovely sight. There was a large meadow with a river running through it. The river meandered through the meadow and just before it headed back into a wooded area; it took a ninety-degree turn.

  Right at the point of the turn, Jess spotted a tent with a smokestack poking through the top of it. There was a horse grazing the meadow untied and a rocking chair outside the tent. It was about noon and Jess figured he had to be close to the town of Timber. He figured that whoever was living in that tent might know something about the man he was hunting. Jess made his way down to the tent. When he was about one hundred yards from the tent, he heard a low raspy voice holler out. “That’s close enough, mister!”

  Jess reined Gray up and stopped. He could see a man peeking out of the front of the tent holding a long rifle that looked like an old beat up buffalo gun. Jess got down from his horse.

  “I mean no harm,” he explained. “Just need a cup of coffee and maybe some talk, that’s all. I’m not looking for any trouble.”

  “Well, come on then and let me get a good look at ya,” said the raspy voice.

  Jess slowly walked up to the front of the tent. A rough looking man with a bushy beard came out and looked him over real good. Jess stood very still not wanting to set the man off, especially while he had that rifle pointed at him.

  “You one of them bounty hunters?” asked the man.

  “I don’t really think of myself as a bounty hunter.”

  “Sure do look like one.”

  “I’ve been told that before.”

  “Who you looking for?”

  “I’m looking for a man by the name of Hank Beard; you know him?”

  “Name don’t ring a bell, but I’m not good with names anyway,” he said. He put the rifle down as if he was no longer worried about Jess’s intentions.

  “Speaking of names, I’m called River Bend Bill. What’s yours?” he asked.

  “Jess Williams.”

  “Nice to meet ya, Jess Williams.”

  “How long have you been living out here?” he asked, looking at the raggedy old tent.

  “Oh, ’bout five years or so,” he replied. “I can’t recall for sure. How ’bout that coffee? I got the pot, if you got the coffee.” Jess tied Gray off and got some coffee out. After Jess poured them both a cup, he showed him the drawing of Hank Beard, but Bill didn’t recognize him.

  “So, how’d you get the name of River Bend Bill?” asked Jess.

  “Well, I suppose it’s ‘cause of where I live. Right here, by this bend in the river,” he replied. “Can’t live in town, they’d just throw me out.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, it’s a long story you see,” he explained. “There’s a woman by the name of Patti Nate in town. I guess I kinda like her, but so does the sheriff, Mark Steele. Every time I go into town and try to talk with her, he gets all riled up and runs my ass out. I keep going back and he just keeps running me out. I think she’s sweet on him, but she was with me first, so I figure I’ll keep trying as long as she ain’t hitched to him yet.”

  “Sounds like you got a fight on your hands,” implied Jess. “I wish you luck.”

  “Yeah, thanks,” he replied. “I’d a wupped his ass already, exceptin’ he wears that badge and that gives him a lot of leeway, you know. Plus, I think she’s impressed with that badge, course I guess most women are, don’t ya think?”

  “I reckon you’re right about that, Bill. Besides your problem with the sheriff, is he a good lawman?”

  “It pains me to say it, but yeah. He keeps the peace and takes no shit. Maybe he’ll have some information on your fellow,” added Bill.

  “What’s it like in town?”

  “It’s usually a pretty quiet town, but right now a few of the ranches are feuding over water rights. Been a few gunfights between the ranch hands so if you go to town, you best be careful. Them boys don’t care who they pick a fight with after they’ve been drinking. Town’s about two miles straight that-a-way, through the woods. When you see Sheriff Steele, tell him River Bend Bill says hi. That’ll get his dander up,” Bill said with a smirk.

  “I’ll be sure to,” replied Jess. “Thanks for the company and good luck with Patti Nate.”

  “Hey, you stop in the saloon and have a drink on me and say hi to Patti. She works there. Tell her River Bend Bill still loves her and will be in to see her soon!” he said.

  “I’ll be sure to tell her.”

  Jess left the bag of coffee there and rode through the woods until he came to a clearing by a road. He could see the town about a half mile away. He walked his horse into town. It did seem like a quiet town, not much going on; but then again, the town wasn’t much. There were only about a dozen buildings. He stopped at the only saloon and tied Gray up and walked inside after looking down both sides of the main street. Jess walked in and up to the bar and ordered a drink. He had noticed that there were men sitting at several ta
bles in the saloon and four men standing at the bar. Jess could feel tension in the room. He had taken his usual spot, always at the end of the bar and always in the corner with a wall to his backside. They had all eyed him as he walked in, but they were paying more attention to each other at the moment.

  Another man walked in the bar and Jess felt the tension in the room tighten up even more. He could smell trouble. The man walked to the bar and joined the other four who had been standing there. He ordered a drink and turned around to face one of the tables where three men had been sharing a bottle of whiskey.

  “Since when did you let girls drink in this saloon, Jed?” the new man asked the barkeep. The other four men had turned around. The barkeep was nervous and heading slowly toward the end of the bar where Jess had spotted a short double-barreled shotgun.

  “I don’t want no trouble in here, Johnson. You heard the sheriff the last time you started a fight in here,” the barkeep said as he reached for the butt of the shotgun.

  “Well, you wouldn’t have any trouble if you didn’t let girls drink in here, ain’t that right boys?” asked Johnson sarcastically. All four of the other men nodded affirmatively. The three men quietly sitting at the table didn’t say a word. They worked for the Triple Bar ranch, which owned most of the land that the river flowed through. They just finished up their drinks and left some money on the table and stood up slowly and started to leave.

  “Where you girls goin’ now? Down to the store to get some lace for them britches?” asked Johnson, still trying to goad them. One of three men stopped and turned slowly. He didn’t say anything for a moment as if he was contemplating what his next move would be. The other two men stopped and turned. You could have cut the heavy air with a knife.

  “Johnson,” the man said, “you know we can’t have any trouble or we’ll lose our jobs and we all got families to feed. Why don’t you give it up and leave it alone.”

  “Because I don’t give a shit about your families or your jobs,” retorted Johnson. “If your damn boss wasn’t such a hard-ass, maybe we wouldn’t have a problem.”

  “We can’t control that and you know full well that it’s his water, even Judge Hawkins said so. Why don’t you just let it drop?” replied the man.

  “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just a hard-ass, like your boss,” sniggered Johnson.

  Just when Jess figured things were about to blow, a tall lanky man walked into the saloon. He wore a badge on the front of his shirt. It was Sheriff Mark Steele. When he walked into the room, you could sense that he was immediately in control of the situation.

  “What’s going on, boys?” the sheriff asked, in a very quiet, yet deliberate tone.

  “Johnson’s been trying to pick a fight again and those boys were just trying to leave, Sheriff,” Jed offered quickly, before anyone else could speak.

  “That right, Johnson?” asked Sheriff Steele.

  “This is unfinished business and you know it, Sheriff,” retorted Johnson. Johnson was getting mad and nervous at the same time. He was obviously afraid of Sheriff Steele, as were the other four men that were with him and Jess could see that.

  “When I ask you a question, I expect an answer, not an explanation to a question I didn’t ask. So, what’s the answer?” The sheriff’s voice was as firm as a steel blade.

  “I…I guess that’s right, Sheriff…but…” Johnson began to say when the sheriff cut him off mid-sentence.

  “Okay, now I want you boys to unbuckle those gun belts so that Jed here can deliver them to me at the jail, which is where you boys are going for the rest of the day,” ordered the sheriff.

  “But Sheriff…that ain’t right!” retorted Johnson angrily.

  “I ain’t going to ask you again boys and you know I mean it,” the sheriff answered, his hand going to the butt of his pistol and the look on Sheriff Steele’s face said he would use it if he had to.

  “Damn it!” hollered Johnson, as he unbuckled his gun belt and let it fall to the floor. The other four quickly followed suit.

  “Thanks, Sheriff. We didn’t want any more trouble. We’ll be going now,” offered the man from the other group.

  “Good day, gentlemen,” said Sheriff Steele. “And thanks for not acting like these fools, and tell your boss I appreciate it.” Sheriff Steele was leading the five men out of the saloon when Jess spoke up.

  “Sheriff, could I get a word with you later?” asked Jess.

  “Sure thing, stranger,” replied Steele. “I was wondering who you were anyway. Give me about an hour to lock these hooligans up and stop in at the jail.”

  “Thanks, Sheriff,” he replied.

  Jess drank his beer and ordered another one. He asked Jed where he could find a room for the night. Jess thanked him and headed down to see the sheriff. Sheriff Steele was sitting at his desk writing when Jess knocked on the half-opened door.

  “Come on in,” he said.

  “Hi, Sheriff,” said Jess, as he stuck his hand out and shook hands with him. “My name is Jess Williams. I’m looking for a man by the name of Hank Beard.” Jess pulled the sketch of Beard from his front pocket and showed it to Steele. “He’s one of three men who murdered my family and raped my ma and little sister. He’s got a bounty on his head and I heard he was last seen in this area. Do you have any information on him?”

  “Raped your little sister?” Steele asked with a disgusted look. “How old was she?”

  “Seven,” he said as his gut knotted up.

  “Damn. A man who would do something like that should be shot on sight. No judge, no jury, and no trial; just shot,” said Steele.

  “He will be, Sheriff. As soon as I find him.”

  “You a bounty hunter?”

  “No, not really.”

  “Could’ve fooled me,” he said plainly. “You sure look like one although you seem awfully young to be in the bounty hunting business. Well, this picture doesn’t ring any bells, but let me look through some posters and ask around. How about I meet you at the saloon about suppertime and let you know what I find out. They have good food there. I know the cook real well. Can you leave the sketch?”

  “Sure, but I need it back,” he replied. “I’ll see you later, Sheriff.” Jess started to walk out and stopped and turned around. “Oh, I almost forgot. A friend of yours said to say hello to you.”

  “A friend? Who might that be?” he asked.

  “River Bend Bill,” replied Jess, smiling. The sheriff shook his head in disgust.

  “That old codger can kiss my ass,” he said sharply. “You tell him exactly that when you see him again and tell him not to show up in town or I’ll lock his ass up and throw away the key!”

  “If I get the chance to see him again, I will.”

  Jess left the sheriff’s office and headed for the only hotel in town. He stopped at the livery, but there was no one there so he brushed Gray down and stabled him. He got a room and took a nice hot bath. He decided he would try the food at the saloon since the sheriff had recommended it. He headed down to the saloon to wait for the sheriff. There were a dozen or so men in the saloon. Jess picked the table in the corner at the end of the bar and sat down to have a cold beer before eating. There was one man who was standing at the bar and the man was paying a little more attention to Jess than normal and Jess knew it. The man was short, but lean and tough looking. He wore a single six-shooter. Jess counted four notches on the man’s gun handle and if they were honest notches, that made him a very dangerous man. It wasn’t long before the man put his drink down and turned to face his table.

  “So, which ranch you working for, son,” asked the man.

  Jess looked up to face the man. He figured him for a gunslinger or a hired gun. His demeanor and the way he acted told Jess all he needed to know about the man. He knew he had to be careful with him. It was just something that one could see in a man’s eyes.

  “I’m not working for any ranch,” replied Jess. “I’m here looking for someone.” The man kept looking at Jess, studying him.
He was intrigued by the pistol and holster Jess wore.

  “You a bounty hunter?”

  “Maybe; what’s it to you if I am?”

  “That depends on whether or not you’re hunting any of my friends,” replied the man.

  “I’m looking for a man by the name of Hank Beard. Is he one of your friends?” Jess asked. The man stiffened a little and Jess immediately picked up on it.

  “As a matter of fact, I do know Hank. We’ve worked together a few times,” replied the man.

  Jess figured that any man who could be friends with a cold-blooded killer like Hank Beard had to be just as bad as Beard. Jess deftly removed his hammer strap and slowly stood up from his table, keeping a careful watch on the man’s gun hand. Some of the men left the bar slowly and the rest moved around a little and watched, sensing that a gunfight was about to happen. Jess watched the room out of the corner of his eyes, but never took his eyes off the man.

  “You didn’t work with him on any jobs in the town of Black Creek, Kansas, did you?” asked Jess, a hint of anger in his voice.

  “Depends what the job was.”

  “Murdering my pa and raping and killing my ma and my little sister,” clarified Jess crossly. The man seemed to think a moment about what he had told him.

  “He never mentioned any of that to me, so it ain’t any of my business,” replied the man. “I don’t cotton to raping women myself, but I don’t judge other men.”

  “The way I see it, any man who would have anything to do with a man like Hank Beard ain’t much better than Beard,” he barked.

  “Hey, you kiss my ass, kid,” he retorted. “If you’ve got a lick of sense, you’ll get the hell out of town and forget about hunting Beard. He ain’t worth dying for.”

  “I’m not the one who’s going to die.”