The RECKONING: A Jess Williams Western

by Robert J. Thomas

  “Damn,” said Clancy. “You took down Nevada Jackson.”

  “He sure did,” interjected the barkeep. “Nevada never even got his gun out.” The sheriff got his two deputies to take Nevada’s body over to the undertaker. Sheriff Clancy looked at Jess.

  “You know he’s got a brother,” said the sheriff in a cautionary tone.

  “So I’ve heard.”

  “He’s not going to be happy about this,” advised Clancy. “And he taught Nevada everything he knew about slinging lead.”

  “Evidently not enough.”

  “Well, there’s no bounty on him, at least not that I know of,” said Clancy.

  “Sheriff, I tried to talk him out of this. It was his decision, not mine.”

  “Hey, I got no problem with it,” he said. “As far as I’m concerned, it was a fair fight. I guess it won’t be the last one today.”

  “Why’s that, Sheriff.”

  “Several new toughs came into town a little bit ago,” he replied miserably. “Looked like trouble for sure. They went over to Jake’s saloon down the street, but they’ll end up in here before long, especially once they find out you’re here. Sure as shit, at least one of them will be looking to add to their reputation by taking you down. You have time to ride out if you want to.”

  “You know I can’t do that, Sheriff,” he replied. “Taggert didn’t happen to be one of them did he?”

  “Nope, never seen any of these fellows before, but I’ve sure seen their kind before. I aim to check my wanted posters for their faces. I wouldn’t be surprised to see one of them on one.”

  The sheriff walked out and Jess finished his beer. He thanked the barkeep, gave him a nice tip, slung Nevada’s gun and holster over his left shoulder and walked down to the stable. Jess actually felt a little bad about killing Nevada even though Nevada had forced him into the fight. Nevada wasn’t a cold blooded killer. He was just another bounty hunter out to make some money and a name for himself.

  He walked into the stables and called out Ted’s name. There was no answer. Jess was about to turn around when he heard some moaning coming from the back of the stable. He walked over to where the sound was coming from and he saw Ted Watkins laying flat on his back in a pile of hay. He had been severely beaten. Jess grabbed a water pail and took it over to where Ted was. He dipped a rag into the water and placed it on Watkins’s forehead. After a minute or so, Ted came around and was startled at seeing someone leaning over him.

  “Easy, Ted,” said Jess. “Just stay down there for a minute and get your wits about you before you try to stand up.” Jess saw several knots on Watkins’s forehead and at least a dozen cuts and bruises, along with a real bad gash just below the hairline over the right eye. Someone had really worked him over good.

  “Who the hell did this to you?” he asked, after Ted seemed to have shaken some of the fog from his brain.

  “That damn bunch that came into town a little bit ago. I told them it was extra for the good grain for their horses and they started to argue with me. They were just looking for a reason and before I knew it, one of them hit me with the grain bucket. I punched the bastard square in the nose and he started bleeding like a stuck pig and that pissed off his friends. They all jumped me and beat the tar out of me. I could’ve taken the one guy, but I didn’t have a chance against all of them,” he explained.

  “Well, at least you were smart enough not to try using that pistol.”

  “Hell, I'm not afraid of any fight, but I'm no fool either,” he said. “They’d have shot me down like a dog. I’ve seen their kind before. They make a life out of looking for trouble and a reason to kill someone.”

  “Well’ maybe this will make you feel better,” said Jess, as he gave Nevada’s pistol and holster to him.

  “What’s this for?”

  “I took this off Nevada Jackson. I figure I don’t really need another gun and since you seem to want to wear one, you might as well have a nice one.”

  “I can’t keep this. Nevada will…” Ted’s words cut off as his brain began to fire on all cylinders and he remembered the old prospector coming in to claim Nevada’s horse and rifle, but not before telling him about the gunfight. Ted stood up and shook the cobwebs out of his head.

  “So, you really did outdraw Nevada Jackson?”

  “You’re holding his pistol and holster,” he replied clearly.

  “Damn,” replied Ted, rubbing his forehead.

  “I’m going to head back to the saloon, but I want to ask you for a favor,” said Jess.

  “Name it. I figure I owe you one,” replied Ted.

  “Let me know when Blake Taggert comes back to town.”

  “You got it, Jess. And thanks a lot for the pistol and holster. It’s mighty nice,” he said examining the pistol and holster.

  “You’re welcome. I think it’s one of the nicest ones I’ve seen, except for mine that is. And go see someone about that bad cut over your eye.”

  Ted nodded and walked out right behind Jess, but not before putting on Nevada’s gun and holster. Jess walked back into Little’s Drinks. As soon as he stepped inside the door, he saw trouble in the form of five men standing at the bar drinking and slamming their glasses down on the bar. All five of them were wearing guns, but only two of the men had them tied down low and tight on their legs. Jess wondered if these were the men who had beaten Ted Watkins earlier.

  Jess walked up to the far right end of the bar and ordered a beer. Four of the five men didn’t pay Jess any attention at first, but one of the men in the group did. The man had watched Jess walk into the saloon and he was still watching him. Jess didn’t return the stare, but was well aware of it and he had already taken his hammer strap off. The man turned back to his other four friends and they suddenly became quiet and then they all seemed to turn so they could see Jess. They drank quietly and spoke amongst themselves for a while, all the time glancing over at Jess. The five men were distracted when Ted Watkins walked into the saloon. The five men smiled at Ted as he walked over to the bar and stood next to Jess.

  “Well, looky here,” one of them said. “It’s the little stable boy. You come to tell us you done raised the boardin’ fee on our horses?”

  “Naw,” said another one of the men, “he just likes the beatin’ we gave him and he’s come back for another.”

  Ted ordered a beer and was just about to respond when the one man who had been carefully watching Jess spoke. This man was the leader of the group and his name was Ike.

  “Now boys, we done gave the stable boy here enough exercise for the day, don’t ya think?” asked Ike. “I mean, look at that big ole bandage on his forehead. I bet he’s got a real nice cut under that bandage.” The other four men laughed at that.

  “Besides,” Ike continued, “I’d like to know more about his friend there at the end of the bar. He’s been ignoring us since he came in here and I don’t think I like that. Are you shy and hiding behind the stable boy there?”

  Ted looked at Jess and Jess gave him a look that Ted understood. Jess motioned his head to tell Ted to move away from the bar, which he did. Ted moved about ten feet away and stood by a table. Jess took another sip of his beer and slowly turned to the men and responded to the question very simply.

  “Neither,” said Jess. The response from Jess took the man a little by surprise. He wasn’t used to getting a simple one-word answer from someone and it riled him a little, although it didn’t show on the man’s face.

  “You ain’t one for carrying on much of a conversation, are ya?” asked Ike.

  “Nope.”

  “So is it that you don’t like to carry on a conversation, or is it that you just don’t want to carry on a conversation with me?”

  “Neither,” replied Jess. The man laughed for a moment until he finally realized what Jess had answered. That really riled him and this time it showed on his facial expression.

  “You smart-ass punk!” hollered Ike. “Don’t you know who you’re talking to?”

>   “Nope, and I really don’t care either.”

  “You best care, mister,” Ike spat angrily.

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m Ike Hardy and I was puttin’ men in their graves before you were a twinkle in the half-dozen men you call your daddy!” exclaimed Ike. “Besides, you ain’t even a man yet, just a young punk who thinks he is.”

  Ike’s face had turned two shades rosier now and the other four men spread out. The one man who had his gun tied down low and tight was looking right at Ted Watkins. Jess knew that he would have to hit that man if he wanted to save Ted. Ike took one step forward.

  “Well, smart-ass, why don’t we find out how good you are with that fancy shootin’ iron you got there?” asked Ike.

  “If you want to find out, all you have to do is grab for yours,” said Jess. “That should be about the last thing you’ll remember.”

  Ike went for his gun and the first thing he felt was his thumb beginning to put pressure on the hammer of his Colt Peacemaker as he went to jerk the gun from his holster. The second thing he felt was a heavy thump in the middle of his chest from Jess’s first shot. Before he fell to the floor of the saloon, he saw three flashes from Jess’s gun barrel. It seemed as if it was one continuous blast, but it wasn’t. Jess’s second shot hit the man who was eyeing Watkins and his third shot hit the man to Ike’s left. Ted Watkins had just drawn his gun and had it cocked when the other two men in the group raised their hands high in the air. “We give! Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot!”

  Ted Watkins was standing there in disbelief at what he had just witnessed. He had watched in the blink of an eye as Jess had taken out three men and was ready to shoot a fourth one and not one of the men had cleared leather yet. His mouth was open, but he couldn’t speak. He slowly put his gun down at his side, but didn’t holster it. Jess continued to keep his gun cocked and ready.

  “You men take those gun belts off,” demanded Jess.

  “Okay. Sure, mister, whatever you say. Just don’t shoot,” one of the two men said. Both men unbuckled their gun belts and let them drop to the floor. “Okay, now what?”

  “Well, I would suggest you men leave town immediately and don’t bother taking your friends’ horses with you. I’ll be taking care of them since they’re my horses now.” Jess stated plainly.

  “You gonna keep their horses?” asked the other man.

  “Shut the hell up, you fool,” replied the first man. “Let’s get our asses out of town while we still have them.”

  The two men almost ran over to the stables and got on their horses and rode out of town at a dead run. Ted Watkins finally put his gun in the holster and sat down. Jess got two beers from the barkeep and sat down at Ted’s table and slid one of the beers across the table toward him. Ted gulped it down and Jess noticed his hand was shaking a little.

  “Mr. Williams, I don’t know what to say. I’d be dead right now if it weren’t for you. Are you for real?” Ted said still somewhat shocked at what he had just witnessed.

  “I guess so, at least the last time I checked anyway,” he replied. “What the hell did you come in here for? You must’ve known those men were in here. Are you trying to get yourself killed?” Ted shook his head, still stunned a little by what had happened.

  “No, I wasn’t even thinking of that,” he replied eagerly. “I was just doing what you asked me to do.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Jess with a confused look on his face.

  “Blake Taggert is back in town and he’s already heard there was someone in town looking for him,” he explained. “He’s down at Harry’s Place right now and he’s got a friend with him. I was just coming to let you know he was back like you asked me to do.” Jess’s eyes turned darker as he slowly stood up.

  “Well, I guess I’ll have to go have me a drink over at Harry’s. Ted, get these men’s guns and take what money they have on them and take it over to your place for me, okay?” Ted nodded.

  Jess left Paul a tip and started to walk out. He was at the doorway when Ted stopped him with a question. “Jess, I gotta hunch that Blake Taggert is in a whole heap of trouble, ain’t he?”

  “You are absolutely right about that,” said Jess, as he walked out. Ted turned to the barkeep and asked for another beer. The barkeep poured him another beer and walked it over to his table.

  “Well, Paul, I guess you got some cleaning up to do here,” implied Ted, looking at the three dead bodies lying on the floor.

  “I guess so,” he agreed. “I figure Harry’s going to be doing some mop work in a few minutes himself.”

  “Yeah, but I got a real strong hunch that it won’t be any of Jess Williams’s blood on the floor once it’s over.”

  “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were one of them mind readers,” said the barkeep.

  Jess stood there in the street for a moment thinking about everything that had happened so far. He looked up at the sky. It was a beautiful afternoon. The sun was shining and the sky was a deep rich blue with just a hint of clouds here and there. He reloaded his pistol as he began walking down toward Harry’s Place. Yes, he said to himself, this is a good day to finish it. He slowly walked straight down the middle of the street. His thoughts turned to his little sister Samantha and what Blake Taggert had done to her. Blake Taggert’s final destiny was finally coming to him and it had a name; Jess Williams.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  As Jess walked down to Harry’s Place, he saw a few men running for Little’s Drinks. Jess figured they must’ve heard the gunshots and wanted to see what happened. Jess saw Sheriff Clancy heading toward him from the direction of Harry’s.

  “Jess, I heard gunshots,” said Sheriff Clancy. “I suppose there’s some more business for the undertaker back at Little’s?” Clancy fell in step with Jess heading back toward Harry’s.

  “You’re an observant man, Sheriff,” he replied. “Three men down and for no real reason other than they thought they had to prove something.”

  “Prove what?”

  “That they were tough, but now they’re dead,” he replied matter-of-factly, as he kept walking and kept his eyes straight down the street, looking directly at Harry’s.

  “I suppose you’re headin’ down to Harry’s?”

  “You’re staying right up with my way of thinking, Sheriff.”

  “Guess you know that Taggert is down there, huh?” the Sheriff asked already knowing the answer.

  “I heard.”

  “I guess there ain’t much chance of talking you outta this, is there?”

  “Not a chance, Sheriff,” he replied, walking slowly and with a meaningful purpose.

  “Well, you watch yourself,” he warned. “He’s got a friend with him and he’s a mean one. Don’t trust him. He’ll draw on you when you ain’t lookin’.”

  Jess stopped suddenly and looked at the sheriff. “Is it the man you said left with Taggert?” asked Jess intensely. “The man you called Sloan?”

  “No, I know this man,” replied Clancy. “His name is Winn Deets. He’s a hired killer and a no good sumbitch.”

  “Thanks for the warning, Sheriff,” he replied. “I assume that you aren’t going to involve yourself in this?”

  “Now you’re staying up with my way of thinking,” responded Sheriff Clancy. The sheriff let out a little chuckle that he quickly suppressed. “You be careful, Jess.” The Sherriff headed back toward Little’s Drinks and Jess started back toward Harry’s Place.

  Jess reached Harry’s and stopped outside the saloon and stood in the street looking at the place. He wondered why the place was called Harry’s. He understood why Little’s Drinks was called Little’s because the owner was short and his last name was Little. He thought about calling Blake Taggert out into the street to face him, but decided instead to go ahead and walk right in. He knew they were waiting for him and might be setting him up for an ambush. Jess stepped up onto the boardwalk and before entering the saloon, he pulled the sawed off shotgun from his back sling. H
e used the barrel of the shotgun to push the batwing doors of the saloon open.

  He walked into the saloon and stopped just two feet past the doorway. He noticed there was quite a crowd in the place. There were at least twenty locals sitting around at tables and standing at the bar. The half-dozen or so men at the bar were in two groups. Four of them were standing in the middle of the bar and two men were standing at the far left end of the bar. The two men at the left end of the bar were the men he had to deal with. Those two men slowly turned around to look at who had come into the saloon. Blake Taggert and Jess’s eyes locked from the instant they looked at one another. Jess couldn’t forget that face even if he had wanted to.

  Taggert did not recognize Jess and had no idea who he was or what he wanted with him. All he knew was that someone in town was looking for him and this must be the man. Jess continued to keep an eye on everyone in the room, but his gaze never left Taggert. The place went almost silent with just a whisper here and there. Everyone had noticed the double-barreled shotgun and no one in the place wanted a taste of that. Jess very slowly worked himself around and behind several tables keeping the wall at his backside, making his way to the far right end of the bar. The barkeep walked over to Jess. The barkeep’s face was covered with thick hair. His hair hung down to his shoulders and his beard almost reached down to his waist. The only part of the barkeep’s face that showed was two openings for his eyes. Even his eyebrows were unusually bushy. Another mystery solved, Jess thought to himself.

  “Welcome to Harry’s, Mr. Williams,” said the barkeep. “I own this place and I’d like to buy you your first drink. What’ll you have?” Jess carefully placed the shotgun on the top of the bar, making sure that it was still pointed in the direction of Taggert and the other man with Taggert. Jess asked for a beer, which Harry quickly poured. A few of the other locals who were close to the bar slowly moved away and that left Jess looking straight down the now empty bar at Blake Taggert and Winn Deets.