Brother's Keeper (21 page)

ESUS
C
HRIST
! H
OW DAMN
lucky can one man get!” exclaimed Trent Holt. “You ain’t lost a hand in over an hour.”

“I guess I’m just lucky today,” replied Tim Sloan. “Yeah, you’ve been lucky every day since you came to town,” added Tom Otto, who had been locked in a poker game with Trent Holt and Tim Sloan. Sloan had been taking their money winning pot after pot the last few hours. He had cheated on a few hands when he needed to win but in most of the hands, he simply had outplayed the two men. Trent Holt went to the bar and got another bottle of whiskey. Andy handed him the bottle. “Why don’t ya quit while you still have a few dollars left, Trent?” asked Andy.
“Hell no, I’m gonna win all my money back from that snake. I know he’s cheating, but I can’t spot it. He’s one slick player for sure.”
“Well, don’t go pissin’ him off and get yourself a dirt blanket.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Trent said, as he sauntered back over to the table and poured himself another drink. It was Otto’s turn to deal and he dealt all three of them another hand.
“Them boys ain’t got sense enough to quit,” Tony said, shaking his head. He had been sitting at the bar drinking some coffee with Andy for the last few hours. He was doing what he was supposed to do, keep an eye on Tim Sloan.
“Nope,” Andy added, “and they both been drinkin’ too much. I got a bad feelin’ that one of ‘em is gonna do somethin’ stupid sooner or later.”
“That’s what usually happens when you mix whiskey, poker and one man winning too much money hand after hand,” added Tony. Just then, Jim Smythe came into the saloon and walked up to the bar next to Tony.
“I got some bad news, boys,” Jim said.
“I was wondering when it would happen,” replied Andy.
“I just talked to one of the ranch hands from the Hardin spread. He told me that Cal Hardin sent a rider out to find Jess and tell him about his brother being here and looking for him.”
“Damn,” said Tony, “I was hoping Jess wouldn’t come back for a while and this brother of his would get tired of waiting and leave town. Guess that was hoping for a little too much, huh?”
“Hell, he ain’t goin’ anywhere ‘cept right here,” replied Andy. “Ten thousand dollars will plant roots on a man. Besides, he’s been making a pretty good living at the table the last few days. Damn kid is as good at the card game as any I’ve seen.”
“Well, what the hell are we going to do now?” asked Jim.
“What the hell can we do?” asked Andy.
Tony looked back and forth between Andy and Jim. “Well, maybe we should just plug him out in the middle of the street with no warning, like Jess did to that Deke fellow.”
“We can’t do that Tony,” replied Jim. “That would be considered murder and we ain’t like that.”
“Maybe not, but I’ll tell you this. If that snake Sloan doesn’t face Jess in a fair fight, I will put a few chunks of lead in him with my Winchester and I won’t warn him before I do it, I promise you both that.” They all nodded in agreement.
“I’ve got to get back to the store. Tony, keep an eye on Sloan and we will just have to wait it out and see what happens.” Jim walked out of Andy’s and back to the general store. Tony was about get up and go out back to take a leak when the argument flared up again. Trent Holt was standing up now and weaving back and forth, the effects of the liquor working on him pretty hard now.
“I know you’ve been cheating’ but I can’t figure out how!” exclaimed Trent. Tom Otto was trying to grab Trent’s left hand and pull him back down in his seat but Trent kept pulling his arm away, which caused him to weave even more. While that was going on, Sloan’s left hand dropped below the table.
“Come on, Trent. Let’s just quit and go get something to eat and sober up before you do something stupid.”
“I ain’t hungry and I ain’t going nowhere till this cheating’ snake tells me how he’s doing it.”
“I told you I don’t need to cheat you boys,” replied Sloan, sarcastically. “You boys just ain’t good enough at the game.”
“I’ve been playing poker longer than you been breathing air, boy. I could win you any day in a fair game. If you ain’t telling me how you’re cheating, I want my money back from the last dozen hands.”
“Now, don’t get yourself into something you can’t get out of
,
Mister,” warned Sloan. “If you handle that side iron as well as you play poker, your losing streak is about to get worse.”
Otto had given up trying to get Holt back down in his seat and could only watch now. Holt stood there, weaving back and forth and glaring at Sloan. The whiskey had clouded his brain as well as his judgment. Then he did it. He reached for his pistol and before he got it out of his holster, Sloan’s gun barked loud from under the table. The slug ripped into Holt’s right thigh knocking him down to the floor. Sloan stood up slowly, his pistol still pointed at Trent Holt lying on the floor. Holt was still holding onto his pistol, which was yet another bad decision for Holt. If he had been thinking clearly, he would have dropped the gun right then and there but he wasn’t able to think clearly. Too many shots of whiskey and too many poker hands lost were all too common ways for a man to get killed and this was no exception. Holt tried what he normally knew he shouldn’t. He tried to take another shot at Sloan who was all too happy to finish what Holt had started by putting another slug square in the middle of Holt’s chest, ending the game along with Holt’s life. Andy had reached for his double-barrel under the counter but Tony spotted his move and grabbed Andy by the arm with a grip that made Andy’s mouth tighten up like a mans ass on a prison farm.
“Don’t you even try that Andy,” Tony said quietly, “that boy will plug you before you’d get that thing above the counter.” Andy grunted to himself, knowing that Tony was right and had probably saved his life.
Tom Otto hadn’t moved an inch during all of this. He sat right there at the table with both hands on the table. Sloan, seeing no other threats in the saloon whirled his gun and dropped it ever so gently back in the holster. He sat back down at the table and started collecting the cards. He looked over at Tom Otto who had that same look Sloan had seen before after taking a player out of a poker game…permanently.
“I suppose you don’t want to be dealt back into the game, huh?”
Otto nervously looked over at Sloan. “Well, uh…I suppose I best be gettin’ back to the missus, if you don’t mind, Mr. Sloan.”
“Go on and get on home to your woman,” replied Sloan, a look of disgust on his face. Otto wasted no time in leaving.
Andy walked around the bar and over to Trent Holt’s body. “You didn’t have to do that, you already had him wounded and on the floor,” said Andy.
Sloan glared at Andy. “Man pulls on me, I kill him. It’s that simple. You all saw it. I tried to get him to give it up but he wouldn’t let it go.”
Andy sent Tony out to get the Doc and the Undertaker. “I saw it, just like everyone saw it, but you didn’t have to plug him that second time,” replied Andy. “You coulda shot him in the arm and just wounded him again; you’re good enough with that side iron to have done that.”
“I don’t see it that way. Man should’ve walked away and went home to his woman like the other man did.”
Andy shook his head. “I don’t think I want you playin’ in my saloon anymore. It’s bad for business.”
Sloan glared at Andy with a hateful look. “No man is going to tell me where I can or can’t go. If you want to go back and try for that double-barrel again, I’ll let you get it above the counter before I put a slug or two in you.”
“You saw that, did ya?” Andy was almost smiling.
“I saw you go for it and I saw your friend save your life. You were one second away from blazing a trail straight to hell.”
Andy stopped smiling and Tony returned with the Doc and the Undertaker. Two men helped the Undertaker haul the body off and Doc Johnson and Tony had a drink with Andy at the bar. Sloan, true to his word, sat back down at the table and kept shuffling the cards and folding them one handed. Doc Johnson finished his drink and turned to head out of the saloon. He stopped momentarily at Sloan’s table. He looked Sloan straight in the eyes.
“Trent Holt was a friend of mine, Mr. Sloan. You best hope you don’t get shot in this town ‘cause if you do, you’ll have to ride to the next town to find a doctor to fix you.” Doc Johnson walked out.
“You tell him Doc,” added Andy, not one to leave well enough alone.
“Shut-up old man before I come over there and yank that pile of fur you call a beard right off your face,” said Sloan. Andy gave Sloan one of his looks and turned back to Tony who said, “You’re going to get yourself shot for sure.”
Sloan hung around the saloon for another half-hour hoping to get another game going but no one showed up, at least to play poker anyway. He asked a few of the men who had come in for a drink or a meal did they want to play, but none of them would sit at his table. They had already heard about Trent Holt’s demise and no one wanted to follow in his footsteps. Sloan finally got bored and walked out and headed down to Dixie’s place. He was probably going to see Vivian again. She was his favorite and they had become more comfortable with each other with each visit.
Sloan walked into Dixie’s and was met by Dixie herself. She had no last name; none of the women working there used last names. Dixie was older than she looked but she had long ago stopped peddling her flesh in a cathouse in Dodge City, Kansas. She had saved all her money and several years ago she moved to Black Creek, Kansas and purchased a nice little boarding house with four rooms upstairs. She hung out a sign and opened her establishment. She started out with two of the girls she used to work with in Dodge City and she was now a businesswoman, and quite a successful one at that.
“Where is my my little woman, Vivian?” Sloan asked.
Dixie smiled. “She’s right upstairs in room four, like always. She’s been whining about you not showing up yet today. I think she has taken a liking to you.”
“Most women do once they find out about my wonderful personality,” Sloan said, as he patted Dixie on the rear.
“I don’t think it’s your personality she is fond of.”
Sloan smiled and headed up the stairs. He knocked on the door of room four and he heard footsteps heading for the door quickly. His hand was on the butt of his pistol with the hammer strap off. It was just something he did without even thinking about it.
Vivian opened the door and smiled at Sloan. “I thought maybe you weren’t coming by to see me today.”
“I’ve been a little busy.”
Vivian frowned. “I heard the gunshots over at Andy’s Saloon. I heard about Trent Holt.”
Sloan took off his gun belt and carefully placed it on a chair, which was next to the bed. It was within easy reach if he were to need it. “He shouldn’t have called me a cheat. I tried to warn him, but he decided to do something stupid when he shouldn’t have.”
Vivian started undressing. “I heard one of the other girls just this morning say something about you looking for your brother, Jess Williams. You know, he was just here not too long ago.”
Sloan stopped all movement. “What, you know about Jess?” Why didn’t you tell me?”
Vivian blushed. “I just found out about it this morning. I was waiting for you to come to visit me so that I could tell you.”
“Tell me what?”
“A lot of people in town know about Jess. Jim and Sara Smythe over at the general store know your brother very well. He stays there when he comes to visit. That’s all I know.”
Sloan picked his gun belt back up and began strapping it on again and Vivian was now stark naked. She could tell Sloan was furious.
“You’re not leaving yet, are you? We haven’t even kissed yet. Don’t you want a little of this before you rush off.”
“Not right now. There is something I have to do and it can’t wait. Thanks for the information.” Sloan threw ten dollars on the bed and headed out the door.
“Where are you going in such a hurry?” asked Vivian, that whine in here voice again.
“To pay a visit on the Smythe’s, and it won’t be a pleasant one, I promise you that.”
Sloan headed down the stairs and straight out the front door of Dixie’s. He looked straight down at Smythe’s General Store. He walked off the boardwalk and headed straight for the general store. Tony was sitting in his chair just inside the livery and watched as Sloan headed straight towards Smythe’s General Store. What really caught Tony’s attention was the way Sloan was acting. He looked mad and hell-bent for trouble.
As soon as Sloan walked into the store and found no one behind the counter, he banged his fist down on the counter. “Doesn’t anyone work in this damn store?” Jim came running out of the back room to see what all the commotion was about. Sara was one step behind him.
“I’m going to ask you a question,” said Sloan, “and I better get the right answer the first time because there won’t be a second time. Do you two know who Jess Williams is and where he is?” Jim and Sara exchanged glances.
“Don’t be looking at your whore, just answer the question!”
“Now see here, Mister, you can’t call my wife….”
Sloan cut him off before he could finish. “I can damn well say whatever I want!”
Jim reached down to where he kept his double-barrel but the cocking back of a hammer stopped him. Sloan had slicked his pistol out before Jim’s hand had moved one inch.
“Yeah, you go ahead and grab that scattergun and see how fast you can get a glimpse of your next life.”
Jim stopped and put his hands on the counter. “Sara, go into the back room.” Sara didn’t move, mostly because she was frozen in fear. She knew this young man would not hesitate to pull the trigger. She began to think about what Jess had told her about how ruthless some men could be.
“She ain’t going anywhere,” Sloan said with a sneer. “I want her right where I can see her. Now, you’ve got about one second to answer my question and then I’m going put a bullet right through you skull. Then, I’m going to ask your whore there the same question and if she don’t answer, I’ve got no problem with putting a bullet in her head and if you doubt me, you will surely be sorry Mister. I’ve about had it with this two-bit town. Now, what’s it going to be?”
Sara was even more terrified now and she could not move or hardly even breathe. Jim, knowing he had no choice now, answered the question. “Yes, we know him,” answered Jim.
“That’s a start. Now where the hell is he?”
“I don’t know for sure, but he is on his way back here now.”
“Really? How did you find that out?”
“One of the men who work out at the Hardin ranch told me that Cal Hardin had sent a man to find your brother and tell him that you were here.”
Sloan looked a little puzzled. “Now, why do you suppose he went and did that?”
“You’d have to ask Cal Hardin ‘bout that.”
“I think I might, but not before I finish what I came here to do.”