Posted by The Black Knight on November 15, 2000 at 21:29:50:
Chapter 2
Several hours later Jess slowly regained consciousness. The world was still black but that was because night had fallen. Jess struggled to his hands and knees and felt the back of his neck. Bob had left the imprint of his gun at the base of Jess' skull.
"Miss Sampson." Jess said groggily.
He looked over at the woman lying in the mud. A thick mat of dried blood covered her torso. One look at Karen's eyes and Jess could tell that she was dead. Jess looked over beside the house. His big black
stallion stood eating some of the sparse grass. He staggered over to the horse and put his foot in the stirrup. As he swung up, the whole world began to spin. He fell back down into the mud.
Sunlight nearly blinded him the next time his eyes opened. He lay in a bed inside a wooden cabin. A young woman dabbed a cloth across his forehead.
"Take it easy, Mister Hawkins." the young woman said.
"I have to find Bob Paskel." Jess said.
"Not today you won't. According to Doc Carter you have a concussion. I don't understand it myself, but he wants you to stay in the bed." the young woman said.
The young woman was very slender. She wore a red shirt, brown pants, and a brown jacket. She also had a Colt strapped to her left thigh.
"Who are you?" Jess asked.
"My name's Tiffany Parker, but my friends call me T.P." she said.
"I've never seen a woman with a gun before." Jess said.
"I've never heard an educated gunfighter either. Around here everyone carries a gun or stays out of Robertson's way." T.P. said.
"Well it's been nice chatting, but I have to get going." Jess said.
"If you're going after Robertson you're going to need someone who's not afraid of Robertson to go with you." T.P. said.
"Sorry, Tiffany, I work alone." Jess said.
He slowly sat up.
"Lay down, Mister Hawkins." T.P. said.
"My name is Jesse, but my friends call me Jess. I'll lay down when I finish what I started." Jess said.
He got to his feet to find them not very supportive of his weight. He clamped his teeth shut and reached for his gun belt. He heard a hammer fall back behind him as his hand reached the belt.
"I was in the saloon when you pulled that little stunt. I have no intentions of letting you near those guns." T.P. said.
He turned around and looked at her. For the first time he noticed her deep tan, much darker than most women her size and age.
"You're an Indian?" he asked.
"My mother was." T.P. said.
He held his hands up as he stepped toward her.
"Don't come any closer." T.P. demanded.
"You don't look like someone who would shoot an unarmed man." Jess said.
She gasped as he grabbed her left wrist and shoved it into the wall. Before she could move she felt a Derringer barrel pressed into her stomach.
"I don't like shooting women, be glad of that. From what I've seen of Paskel and his gang, they enjoy it." Jess said.
"If you're going to continue our conversation, I would be much more comfortable without that gun in my belly." T.P. said.
He backed away and she slid her gun into her holster.
"What's your quarrel with Robertson?" Jess asked as he put the gun belt around his waist.
"I have my reasons. They're personal, and they will stay that way." T.P. said.
"It's obvious I'm not going to stop you, but I would like to know how dedicated you are." Jess said.
"Enough to see Robertson, Paskel, and the lot hang." T.P. said.
She grabbed a dark brown duster off a rack by the door and opened it. Jess pulled his black broad brimmed hat on his head as he stepped out the door. T.P. already stood at a sorrel mare wearing the duster and
a brown Mexican styled hat. Jess swung up into the saddle slowly still fighting the lingering effects of having his skull creased. He looked over at a fresh grave and a cross at the head of it.
"How long was I out?" Jess asked.
"About three days, I reckon. Reverend Brannigan came by and gave Karen a proper funeral." T.P. said.
"How many people know that I'm still alive?" Jess asked.
"Counting me, three. Just the Reverend, the Doc, and me know about you." T.P. said as they started toward town.
"What do you know about Reverend Brannigan?" Jess asked.
"I know he was a gun runner during the war, for the South mostly. I've never seen religion change a man like it did him. It's like he's a whole new man, you'd never know about his past unless he told you." T.P. said.
"The Lord works in mysterious ways." Jess half-joked as they rode on.
They camped outside of town that night and waited for daylight to enter the town.
As day broke the next morning Jess was already up and had his horse saddled when T.P. opened her eyes.
"I don't suppose I could talk you out of going through with this?" Jess asked as he walked into her section of the camp.
She got up, picking her gun belt up as she did.
"Not a chance. I've been waiting four years to find someone with the backbone to stand up to Robertson." T.P. said.
She looked over at her sorrel and found in already saddled as well.
"I don't know Robertson that well." Jess said as she smiled.
T.P. threw her jacket and duster over the saddle horn then swung up into the saddle. Jess drew his guns one at a time, opened the chamber, and turned cylinder to check for empty chambers. T.P. checked her Colt, then her Winchester in her saddle boot.
"I've done a lot of things since the war, but I've never been in a gunfight with a woman." Jess said.
He swung up into the saddle and they rode into Red Gulch together.
They were careful to come in from the East, with the sun behind them. Bob Paskel was the first to spot Jess riding into town. Jess pulled his hat brim down as he watched Paskel run for the saloon.
"What do you think?" Jess asked.
"You're the professional, what do you think?" T.P. asked.
"How many guns do you think Robertson has?" Jess asked.
"No more than five including Paskel. His hands are off delivering his cattle to the rail yards." T.P. said.
They went to the hitching post in front of Pop Watson's General Store. T.P. pulled out her rifle as she walked around her horse. Three men came out of the Saloon adjusting their gun belts.
"There are just three of them, that about makes it even. Paskel's not one of them. Go stand in front of the hardware store and keep an eye for him." Jess said.
"You really think you can take all three of them? They're the fastest guns in town." T.P. said.
"At least that gives them a sporting chance." Jess said.
T.P. went over to the hardware store and cocked a round into the chamber of her rifle.
"What's wrong, your squaw leave you, Hawkins?" one of the men jeered.
Jess moved his jacket back off his guns.
"Whenever you're ready to die." Jess said confidently.
The three men weren't much more than ordinary cow hands in from a drive. None of them looked brave enough to make the first move. One was a tall man with the beginnings of a beard, the second was a burly
man with his gun hand twitching above his Colt, and the third was a small man with the facial features of a rodent and the crazy eyes to match. Jess knew from experience which man to watch to make the first
move. Jess' hand pulled his guns out of their holsters and the second man began to draw. The burly man barely had his guns out before Jess fired, catching him in the shoulder. The tall man fired his gun high and missed Jess' head completely, while Jess' shot caught him in the throat. The third man threw down his gun and ran for his horse. Jess
turned as he heard a rifle fire. T.P. had shot at Bob Paskel, who stood beside the saloon. He had been aiming his gun at Jess, but when T.P.'s bullet hit over his head he turned toward her. T.P. tried to
cock the rifle again, but it jammed. She threw it down and reached for her Colt as Paskel cocked his gun. The barrel of her gun had just cleared the top of her holster when he fired. She dropped her gun as
she slammed back into the wall of the hardware store. She slid slowly to the ground with a look of resignation on her face. Jess fired three times. Each bullet staggered Paskel. He fell back and lay in
the dirt without moving to catch himself. Jess knew from the blood on his shirt that he was dead. Jess walked over to where T.P. lay.
"Tiffany, how bad are you hit?" Jess asked.
He looked down when she didn't answer. Paskel's bullet had hit her in the center of the chest. Jess looked up as a man in a tan duster and a black hat walked up.
"What are you doing in my town, Hawkins?" the man asked.
"Your town?" Jess asked.
The man pulled back his duster to show a tin star on his black vest.
"Are you on Robertson's payroll like everyone else around here, Luke?" Jess asked.
"I don't say what I don't mean, Hawkins. I work for the people of this town, not Robertson." Luke said.
"I saw everything, Sheriff, it was a fair fight up until Paskel stuck his nose in it." Pop Watson said as he stepped out onto the porch of the General Store.
"I saw it too, Pop." Luke said.
Jess reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a roll of money. He peeled off some bills and pushed them toward the Sheriff.
"See that she gets a decent funeral. I have some pressing business to attend to." Jess said.
"Robertson's in Carson City and he won't be back until next week." Luke said as he took the money.
Jess walked toward his horse shaking his head.
"Hawkins, if you're going to kill him I will put you in jail for murder." Luke said.
"You know better than to try." Jess said.
"Do I?" Luke asked as Jess mounted his horse.
"You're good, Sheriff, but not that good." Jess said.
Luke rested his hand on the butt of his gun as Jess rode out of town.
"Do you know that man Sheriff?" Pop asked.
"Yeah, he's one of the worst of his kind, a drifter. Not to mention the fastest gunfighter I have ever seen." Luke said.
Luke looked around as a crowd began to gather.
"Break it up people. The shootin's over go on about your business. Some of you men get these bodies over to Doc Carter." Luke said.