Confessions of a Gunfighter (21 page)

Chapter fifty-two

Things stayed the same after our little talk. I was treated the same as before, and I was relieved.

Now that Rachel knew who I was, I figured she would lose interest and start chasing after Ross. But I was wrong. Instead, she came after me even harder.

Rachel was always smiling and talking about this or that. I really enjoyed being around her, but I was also worried about what Mr. Tomlin would think.

A few days later, me and Mr. Tomlin were down at the barn. We were alone, so I nervously cleared my throat. 

“Mr. Tomlin? There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.”

Mr. Tomlin stopped what he was doing and looked curiously at me. 

“What is it now?”

I shifted my feet nervously. 

“It’s Rachel. Now, she’s a mighty fine girl and all, but here lately she’s been hanging around me an awful lot.”

“I’ve got eyes.”

“Yes, sir. But I just wanted to let you know that I ain’t been encouraging her none. It just seems that every time I turn around she’s always there, wanting to talk.”

Mr. Tomlin narrowed his eyes. 

“Are you saying you don’t like my daughter’s company?”

“Oh no, sir!” I replied quickly. “I like spending time with her. Fact is, I like it a lot, but I didn’t know how you would feel about it. Especially when a good man like Ross is around. I believe he likes her, sir.”

Mr. Tomlin nodded. 

“He does, but for some reason the feeling ain’t mutual. Don’t ask me why; that’s just the way it goes sometimes.” 

“So you don’t mind us being around each other?” I asked in disbelief.

“I raised my daughter right, Rondo, and whoever she chooses is her own business. If I didn’t approve I would have said something ’bout it a long time ago,” Mr. Tomlin declared, and he walked off abruptly while I just stood there with a dumfounded look on my face.

After that, me and Rachel were seen a lot more together. I hated to admit it, but I found myself getting more and more fond of her, and I didn’t know just what exactly to do about it.   

Ross finally said something to me about it. We were alone in the bunkhouse when he suddenly looked up.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Rachel lately,” Ross said.

I valued Ross’s friendship, and I didn’t know what to say. 

“I have,” I finally said. “She’s a mighty fine gal.”

“Shore is,” Ross agreed. 

It was silent, and then Ross added, “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed. But, I reckon I can say that she’s chose a good man.”

I was surprised. 

“You’re a much better man than I am, Ross,” I said sincerely. 

Ross just shrugged, and he didn’t say anything else. But I was relieved, because I sure didn’t want there to be any hard feelings between us.

***

After that things went on as usual. However, a couple weeks later, Mr. Tomlin came back from town with some grim news.

“Steve Hardin is dead,” he told us soberly.

We were all shocked.

“What happened?” Ross asked.

“He couldn’t pay his taxes,” Mr. Tomlin explained bitterly. “So, Lieutenant Porter and his men rode out to confiscate his place. But Hardin wouldn’t go, and there was some shooting. Hardin killed one of them soldiers, but then Roy Shaw killed Hardin.”

It was silent as we all thought about that.

“What about Jeremiah?” I asked.

“He’s fine,” Mr. Tomlin said. “Matter of fact, he stands to benefit from Hardin's death.”

“How so?” I asked.

“Nobody knew it, but Hardin willed the place to Jeremiah.”

“So Lieutenant Porter can’t buy the place?” Ross asked.

“Not right now,” Mr. Tomlin replied. “But he’ll still get the place. Lieutenant Porter informed Jeremiah that he still has to pay Hardin's taxes, and there’s no way he can afford it.”

“How much?” I asked curiously.

“Almost two thousand dollars. Can you believe that?” Mr. Tomlin shook his head in disgust.

“Why so much?” I asked.

“It seems that Steve Hardin owed back taxes since way before the war,” Mr. Tomlin explained. “My guess is that Lieutenant Porter muddied up the records.”

“Can’t we do anything about this?” Ross wanted to know.

“Not yet,” Mr. Tomlin grumbled. “Us ranchers have to get organized first.”

“In the meantime, Jeremiah loses the ranch,” I said angrily.

Mr. Tomlin had no answer for that, and with a frown he walked away.

I was upset. Steve Hardin had been kind to me, and the thought of him getting gunned down by Shaw was disturbing.

I was also disturbed about Jeremiah losing the place, and it was on my mind for the rest of the day.

An idea slowly came to mind. And, the more I thought on it, the more I liked it.

Chapter fifty-three

Almost every rancher in the country came to Empty-lake for Mr. Hardin's funeral.

Neither Lieutenant Porter nor any of his men were present, and that was probably a good thing. 

It was a solemn funeral. Jeremiah looked sad and lost, and I felt sorry for him.

It was a cool, still morning, and the preacher’s solemn voice carried well. He said all the things he was supposed to say, but he didn’t mention how he died.

However, afterwards there was a lot of talk about it.

At first it was just a bunch of angry talk. But then Mr. Tomlin got everybody’s attention and brought up the subject of all the ranchers getting associated. Most everybody liked the idea, and everyone decided to meet again in a few days and work out the specifics. Mr. Tomlin's ranch was centrally located, so the meeting would be held at Mr. Tomlin's headquarters.

We got back to headquarters around midday. Nobody was in the mood to do much, so Mr. Tomlin gave us the afternoon off.

“Mind if I ride into town?” I asked Mr. Tomlin.

Mr. Tomlin shot me a bewildered look.

“We just came from town,” he said.

“I know, but I’ve got some personal business to attend to,” I replied.

Mr. Tomlin was curious, but he didn’t press the matter.

“Sure, go ahead,” he said.

I nodded, and I went down to the barn and saddled Desperate. After that I went over to the bunk house and retrieved my saddlebags.

Ross was there. And, as usual, he was curious as he watched me tie my saddlebags on behind my saddle.

“Going somewhere?” He asked.

“Yep,” I replied.

Before Ross could reply, I stepped into the saddle and rode out.

I was real watchful as I trotted into town. The streets were busy, and I received a few curious looks.

I pulled Desperate up in front of the new Texas state police building. I dismounted, tied Desperate to the hitching rail, and then moved to my saddlebags.

I dug deep and pulled out a small bundle, and then I stepped up onto the porch.

I had already checked my six-shooter, so I opened the door and stepped inside.

Lieutenant Porter was seated at his desk, and he was alone.

He glanced up and recognized me, and his face was curious.

“What are you doing here?” He asked.

Slowly and deliberately, I let my gun hand rest on the handle of my six-shooter. Lieutenant Porter noticed this, and he narrowed his eyes.

“Here on some business,” I replied.

“What business?” Lieutenant Porter scoffed.

I walked up to his desk and tossed my bundle in front of him.

“What is this?” Lieutenant Porter asked irritably.

“Open it and find out,” I replied.

Lieutenant Porter was angry. However, he stayed calm as he opened the bundle, and his face registered true shock.

“There’s over two thousand dollars there,” I said before Lieutenant Porter could say anything. “That should cover Jeremiah’s taxes.”

Lieutenant Porter was silent as he stared at the money. He was thinking hard, and then he smiled wryly.

“Where’d this come from?” Lieutenant Porter asked.

“That doesn’t matter,” I replied.

“Well now,” Lieutenant Porter smiled smugly. “Looks like I ain’t the only one with a good side business.”

I ignored his remark.

“I want two written receipts, both signed by you,” I said. “One’s for Jeremiah. The other one will be well-hidden. And, if anything happens to Jeremiah or his land, then this other receipt will find its way to the right people.”

Lieutenant Porter smiled arrogantly.

“You’ve got this all figured out, don’t you?”

“I do,” I nodded.

Lieutenant Porter eyed me thoughtfully.

“And if I don’t do this you’ll shoot me. Is that it?”

“Let’s not find out,” I replied.

Despite the situation, Lieutenant Porter chuckled.

“Looks like I had you figured out right after all,” he said.

“Mebbe so,” I replied. “Now start writing.”

Lieutenant Porter was silent as he thought it over, and then his arrogant smile returned.

“All right, Joe, I’ll humor you this once.”

Lieutenant Porter picked up a pen and dipped it in ink.

It was silent as Lieutenant Porter wrote out both receipts.

“You think you’re really something, don’t you?” Lieutenant Porter asked as he finished.

“No,” I replied.

Using one hand, I took the receipts, folded them, and slipped them into my pocket. All the while, my gun hand rested on my gun handle.

Lieutenant Porter watched me with an amused grin.

“You know, it’s too bad you didn’t accept my job offer. I could sure use a feller like you.”

Again, I ignored him as I moved to the door.

“My business here is done. I’ll be leaving now,” I said.

Lieutenant Porter acted like he hadn’t heard me as he nodded at my six-shooter.

“Think you’re good enough to kill me with that?” He asked.

“Yes,” I replied curtly.

Lieutenant Porter smiled.

“You know, I’m a pretty good shot myself.”

“So you’ve said.”

Lieutenant Porter frowned thoughtfully as he studied me.

“I don’t think you can beat me,” he said.

I shrugged.

“Never know ’til we’ve tried.”

“Just who are you, anyway?” Lieutenant Porter asked. “I could still swear that I’ve seen you someplace.”

I was tempted to tell him and then shoot him, but I controlled myself.

“Not yet,” I replied, and then I stepped out the door.

Chapter fifty-four

It was almost dark by the time I got back to headquarters.

I unsaddled Desperate and put up my gear, and then I walked up to the main house.

Mr. Tomlin was in his usual position for this time of day. He was sitting in his chair out on the front porch, and he looked curiously at me.

“You missed supper,” he said. “But I’m sure Rachel saved you something.”

“Thanks, but I ain’t hungry anyhow,” I replied as I sat down across from him.

Mr. Tomlin studied me for a moment.

“Get your business tended to?”

“Yes, sir,” I nodded.

I reached inside my pocket and pulled out the receipts.

“Here, I want you to keep these,” I handed them over.

I then told Mr. Tomlin all that I had done, and Mr. Tomlin shook his head in disbelief.

“How’d you get that much money?” He asked.

I smiled wryly.

“My last boss paid better than you do.”

“Kinrich?”

I nodded.

“You see, I’ve been wanting to get rid of that money for a long time, and I couldn’t think of a better way,” I explained.

Mr. Tomlin frowned as he thought on that.

“Yes, I could see how you might feel that a-way,” Mr. Tomlin said. “How did Lieutenant Porter take it?”

“He wasn’t as mad as I’d thought he’d be. Matter of fact, he sort-a seemed amused by the whole thing,” I replied. “But, I really didn’t give him much of a choice.”

I reached down and tapped the handle of my six-shooter.

Mr. Tomlin smiled, but then his face turned serious.

“Lieutenant Porter sure isn’t going to be forgetting you anytime soon.”

“No, sir. Don’t reckon he will,” I replied. “That’s fine with me. I ain’t going to be forgetting him anytime soon neither.”

“Lieutenant Porter strikes me as being a back shooter,” Mr. Tomlin continued.

“I’d say so,” I agreed.

“So that means you’re going to have to be careful,” Mr. Tomlin concluded.

“I always am, sir,” I replied.

Mr. Tomlin nodded, and then it fell silent for a while.

“This is the first time anybody has stood against Lieutenant Porter,” Mr. Tomlin said. “He isn’t going to like it when everybody finds out.”

“Think there’ll be trouble?” I asked.

“More’n likely. Lieutenant Porter will probably feel like he has to retaliate some way to keep everybody scared of him.”

I nodded slowly. 

“That’s one of the things I learned while I was with Kinrich,” I said.

“Oh? What’s that?” Mr. Tomlin asked.

“In times of trouble, it’s better to be feared than to be liked. You can’t always make folks like you, but you sure can make ’em fear you.”

Mr. Tomlin eyed me thoughtfully.

“Yes, I believe you’re right,” he finally said.