“Tell me again about the day my boy Johnny was shot down, Wally,” Angus ordered shortly as he took a sip of his whiskey and coffee.
“You sure you want to hear all that again?” Tupper asked, his face showing his discomfort. The day he’d brought Johnny’s body home to Angus, he’d thought for a moment the old man was going to kill him, as if he’d done something wrong.
“I asked, didn’t I?” Angus responded angrily, slamming his cup down so hard the coffee sloshed over the rim.
“Well,” Tupper began quickly, trying to picture that day in his mind, “from what I heard from those who were there, Johnny and the boys had been drinking a mite, an’ they proceeded to tease Jensen and the men with him about how they smelled. Shortly, one of those old mountain men riding with Jensen jumped up and . . . uh . . . ” Tupper hesitated, trying to decide how graphic to get with his description of the events. Finally, he decided to be a bit vague. “Jumped up and knocked Johnny to the floor.”
“And Johnny hadn’t drawn on the man up till then?” Angus asked, his eyes full of sorrow and anger.
“Nope,” Tupper replied. “Matter of fact, Johnny was flat on his back after the man attacked him without no warning,” he said, shading the truth a mite because he knew that was what the old man wanted to hear.
“What happened then?”
“Well, sir, Johnny’s friends took him outside an’ they waited for Jensen and his men to come out of the Feedbag an’ into the street.”
“And when they did?”
“This is where the stories all get a mite different,” Tupper said. “Johnny and his friends all had their guns in their hands when I got there, but only Johnny’s had been fired, an’ he’d only gotten off the one shot. But the man with Jensen, a William Cornelius Van Horne, said Johnny and his men had fired at them first an’ started the fracas.”
Angus drained his cup, his face pale at hearing once again how his boy had died. “And you believed him, even though none of the boys managed to get a shot off?”
“I didn’t have no choice, Angus. This Van Horne man carries a lot of weight in the state, an’ he knows the governor personally.”
“And tell me again, just how many times was my boy shot?” Angus asked.
“Uh, the undertaker said he had over six slugs in him, Angus.”
“And you honestly think, knowing how fast Johnny was with a six-gun, that he could be standing there with his guns out and only get off one shot whilst someone else has to take the time to draw and ends up shooting him six times?” Angus asked, his voice incredulous. He shook his head. “No, sir! There ain’t nobody alive that fast,” he finished without waiting for an answer.
“Well, what do you think happened then?” Sheriff Tupper asked.
“I think those bastards shot my boy and his friends down in cold blood, and then they took out their guns and put them in their hands so it’d look like a fair fight,” Angus said, his voice tight with anger.
Before Sheriff Tupper could answer saying there’d been plenty of other witnesses to dispute Angus’s version of the gunplay, the door opened and a pretty young woman in her mid-twenties walked into the room, her face a mask of anguish. It was obvious she’d been listening to Tupper and Angus from the other room.
“That’s not all they did to him, Daddy,” Sarah MacDougal said through jaws tight with anger.
Angus cut his eyes to her. “What do you mean by that, Sarah?” he asked.
“Sarah, do you really think this is necessary?” Sheriff Tupper began, a worried look on his face.
“Yes, Wally, I do!” she answered. “My father deserves to know the truth about what was done to his son and my little brother.”
Angus slammed his fist down on the table, causing the coffee cups to leap into the air and spill dark liquid all over the wood.
“Damn it!” he shouted. “Don’t talk about me like I wasn’t even in the room!” He turned his gaze to the sheriff. “Wally, if you know more than you’ve been telling me for the past six months, you’d better spit it out now or I’ll make you wish to hell you had.”
Tupper reached out and turned his coffee cup back right-side-up, clearing his voice. “Well, Angus, when I got to Johnny’s body, I saw a deep cut on his cheek and saw that his two front teeth had been knocked out.”
“What?” Angus shouted, half-rising to his feet.
Tupper held out his hand, palm out. “Now hold on, Angus. I asked around and it seems Johnny was raggin’ the men with Jensen ‘bout them being smelly and dirty, an’ one of the old mountain men took offense at it and pulled out his Colt and pistol-whipped Johnny with it.” Tupper took a deep breath. “I didn’t say nothing about it ‘cause it was plain to see that Johnny had picked the fight in the first place.”
Angus sat back down, slowly nodding his head. “Now I see why Johnny was waiting outside for those men to leave the saloon. His pride was hurt because of the beating he took in front of his friends.”
Sarah stepped over and laid her hand gently on Angus’s shoulder. “That doesn’t alter the fact that Johnny was shot down in cold blood, Daddy, and that was after they slashed his face and knocked his teeth out.”
Angus turned sad eyes to his daughter and covered her hand with his. “You’re right, Sarah. Even though Johnny was spoiled and a hothead who never knew when to shut his mouth, he didn’t deserve to be shot down in the street like a stray dog for it, him and his friends both.”
Tupper leaned forward, his arms on the table. “Now Angus, don’t go off half-cocked. Johnny’s dead, and there ain’t nothing you can do gonna change that.” He took out his handkerchief and wiped his sweaty forehead with it as he continued. “Killing Jensen and his men won’t change anything, Angus.”
Angus looked over at the sheriff and his lips curled in a deadly smile. “No, I can’t change it, Wally, but I can sure as hell make sure someone pays for what they did to my boy.”
Sarah blinked back tears, and turned and walked slowly from the room and out the door to stand on the front porch, staring at the mountain peaks in the distance. She’d always hated Johnny, ever since they were little kids. Up until she was five years old, she’d been the apple of her daddy’s eye and he’d taken her everywhere with him, teaching her to ride and shoot like a man.
Then, Johnny had been born and her life had changed forever. All of a sudden, it was as if she ceased to exist and her daddy’s world revolved around his new son.
It hadn’t been fair; from the beginning, she could ride and shoot better than Johnny, and was smarter in the bargain. But that didn’t matter to Angus MacDougal. All he cared about was having a son to carry on his name. Well, that was over now, Sarah thought bitterly. His precious son’s big mouth had finally gotten him into some trouble their daddy couldn’t buy his way out of.
Sarah shook her head and entered the house again, and walked into her room and began to pack her bags. She planned to be in Big Rock when Smoke Jensen and his friends arrived. She had it all worked out in her mind: She’d move into town using a fake name, get a job, and no one would know she’d come there to put Smoke Jensen in his grave.
As she flung her clothes into the valise, she thought that maybe then Angus would again give her the respect and attention she deserved.
THREE
Sheriff Monte Carson was waiting at the station in Big Rock when Smoke Jensen and his friends, Cal, Pearlie, and Louis Longmont, got off the train.
The four men looked tired and their faces were drawn from the long train ride from up near the Canadian border, and it looked as if they’d all lost weight on their journey to Canada and back.
As they stepped down out of the passenger car, Monte turned to his deputy. “Jim, why don’t you see to their horses and luggage and I’ll take them over to Longmont’s Saloon.” He chuckled. “They look like they could do with some good food for a change.”