Gunslinger Read online

  Janie opened the bag and slowly emptied the contents onto the table. Six golden coins spilled out. Janie recognized them as Spanish gold doubloons like Captain Jack Sparrow lusted after. Thieves stole them from somewhere, and there was no way of knowing who owned them. They now served to add to the happy couple’s new wealth. The last set of saddlebags yielded nothing but a box of shells for the Colt 45. That Colt would go in Clint's shoulder holster.

  He kept the best two saddlebags and stuffed the others in the gunnysack with the other guns. He turned to Janie when he finished. She pulled him close and kissed him once more.

  A soft knocking on the door interrupted their reverie. Clint stepped over to the door and cautiously opened it. The desk clerk was delivering the bottle that he’d ordered. Clint tipped him a quarter and opened the bottle as he shut the door.

  “Let’s celebrate!” he exclaimed, upending the bottle and taking a large swig. He saw the look of abject horror on Janie’s face as he brought the bottle down. He froze. The tableau before him changed as if in slow motion. Fury overtook her face. She screamed at him and her arms flailed against his chest, and she finally landed a fist to his chin.

  “How could you!” she screamed, as she fled to the bedroom and slammed the door shut. The click heard as the lock snapped closed sounded like an explosion in the sudden quiet of the room.

  He staggered back; the bottle forgotten and rolling across the floor. It spilled its contents as it rolled. He worked his jaw to see if he could, his hand covering the spot where the right cross connected with his face. In total befuddlement, he sank to the couch, head in hands.

  Clint reached out and picked the spilled bottle off the floor a moment later. The once full bottle was now half empty, the rest of the liquid producing a dark stain on the rug. The miserable weeping coming from the bedroom was more than he could bear. He strode out the door.

  Heartbroken, Janie threw herself on the four-poster bed, ignoring the quilt and buried her head in the pillows. The experience with the storm last night; waking up in a place unknown; the shootout at the bank, and her part in it; the discovery that the date was over 100 years in her past, and the last straw of Clint drinking from that evil bottle, was all more than she could bear. She cried until it spent her strength and sleep overtook her. The storm had no effect on the young woman tonight.

  Clint lurched into the hotel, taking another swig of the whiskey as he tried to get a buzz going. His confusion with the events compounded as he continued to guzzle increasingly greater amounts of the whiskey. He felt numbness radiating from his core. The night had turned dark because of the storm clouds, so Clint snagged one of the street lanterns as he now staggered towards the edge of town. The front edge of the storm was close as the sprinkling that precedes a storm began. He found an abandoned corral and hung the lantern on a post next to a gate and the now empty whiskey bottle stood on the top rail of the gate.

  Staggering back from the bottle, he stood just over 40 feet away. He took his stance, loosened the safety strap on the holster, and muttered “GO”.

  He drew his gun and fired… Missed.

  Clint holstered the gun and repeated the effort… Missed.

  Again and again he tried in vain to kill that bottle. He saw the facade of the gunslinger was cracking through his stupor.

  Then he drew again, and the response was a dull click. Clint had shot and missed six times. He slammed the gun back in the holster. Enraged, he yanked the Colt 45 from his shoulder holster and fanned the hammer as fast as he could, sending a swath of destruction towards the bottle. Every. One. Missed. The last one hit the lantern instead. The corral became shrouded in darkness.

  The clouds let loose as he extinguished the light, dumping rain on him and the town. He heard the heavy-laden drops as they hit the ground and the leaves in the deserted corral. There was a portrait of a fallen, broken man, with his knees in the mud hanging his head as the lightning lit up the skies. His head raised, he roared his pain and anguish to the heavens as the thunder rolled. This man had stolen two lives today.

  What will the morrow bring?

  Clint had no memory of the night, what he had done, or where he had gone. He woke, stiff and sore on the hay-covered floor of Mr. Akin’s stable. Someone had thrown an old blanket over his prostrate form.

  He had made it back to the hotel somehow. The pounding in his head would not go away. His shaky hand would not hold the key still enough for him to insert it in the lock. Clint finally hit the hole, and he entered the room. He found nothing out of place as he looked around the room. He knocked on the bedroom door.

  “What” she curtly answered without opening the door.

  “You need to eat. Can I get you some food?”

  “Yes” was all she said. Clint left the room and went to the hotel restaurant, ordering everything on the menu that he had learned she liked. He didn’t understand what he’d done, but he knew that it was his fault. He had to make amends.

  Meanwhile, in her room, Janie seated herself on the bed. She’d had the nightmare again. It had been a long time since that had happened. She was sure she rid herself of that demon until it came to her once more and she woke with a start in the middle of the night, dripping with sweat.

  ‘I can’t be mad at Clint; he doesn’t know. I’m so sorry that I hit him. What must he think of me? Will he leave me? I should have told him before something like this happened. I just can’t lose him now. Ow, my hand still hurts.’

  The tears streamed down her cheeks again. She had cried herself to sleep last night. There were bags under her eyes due to her restless sleep and the nightmare this morning. With resolve, she scrubbed her face to rid herself of the effects of the ordeal. She then dressed in one of his shirts and just her baby blue lace panties. She would beg for forgiveness if that was what it would take. Her mind wandered.

  Carol saw a drunken Justin slide off Janie as Janie kicked and fought against him. Carol turned to face him.

  Justin’s eyes went wide in terror as the laser sight attached to the gun painted a bright red spot in the center of his chest. He froze; he was braced by the bed. She lowered the gun and fired.

  He screamed while the smell of urine pervaded the air. He wouldn’t be going anywhere when Momma called the police. Taking Janie with her to the bedroom, she called in an assault on her daughter and asked for an ambulance because someone had shot the SOB. She told the dispatcher someone shot him in the knee and the wound was not life threatening. She would hold him there until the officer arrived.

  Carol spoke softly to Justin so only he could hear just before the ambulance with a police officer and his prisoner pulled away.

  “I will claim fear for my life the next time that I find you anywhere near me or my daughter, and you will lose your balls just before your heart explodes. You watched me shoot at the range and I proved that I’m an excellent shot. I will protect my daughter!”

  Two and a half grueling hours later, the Detective in Charge told Carol that the DA would be in touch. The case was open and shut because Justin continued to apologize and begged for forgiveness for the assault after they read him his rights.

  Clint returned with the food, breaking her away from the horrible memory. He placed it on the table, still uncertain about his standing with Janie. She took his hand and led him over to the couch and made him sit.

  “I have something to say, and please don’t interrupt. This is something awful about me and I have to tell you,” she said with a choking voice.

  He moved towards her, but she stopped him with an uplifted hand. “Please, just listen.”

  Janie related the tale of her alcoholic stepfather with anguish. She pulled no punches and left nothing out as she paced back and forth. She was a quivering, helpless mess at the end. Her voice broke several times in the telling. She needed to take a few minutes to compose herself from the emotional stress of the event’s memory. She internally was certain that Clint blamed her. 'Now he realizes that I am damaged goods' she told
herself. The floodgates opened as the tears flowed once more.

  Janie collapsed into a chair, her head in her hands. She heard him move and was certain that he had left her. She composed herself and Clint was kneeling in front of her as he pulled her hands down. There was righteous indignation on his face. She lifted her face to look at him and there were tears streaming down his cheek.

  “I’m so sorry that happened to you. I didn’t know. It wasn’t your fault. I will never drink again. Nothing like what you told me will ever happen again as long as I take a breath on this earth… if you will let me.”

  “Are you sure you want…?”

  “I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”

  She collapsed into his arms, her sweet lips meeting his. A languorous sigh escaped her lips as they parted from that kiss. He spoke again a little later, after more kisses and the breakfast he’d gotten her.

  “Now about that question that you never answered.”

  “I’m not sure I understand. The state of mind I was in may have caused me to not hear you right. Please, please repeat what you said for me.”

  Clint took a knee as he scooped up Janie’s hands in his.

  “Miss Jane Louise Gibson, I love you. I have loved you since the day we met. It would honor me to protect you and keep you safe for the rest of my days if only you would consent to be my bride.”

  Momentarily speechless, Janie regained her voice with a joyous scream “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!” as tears of joy flowed down her face.

  They just sat and held each other, luxuriating in the body to body contact. Their eyes glistened as they both shed tears of joy.

  Janie breathed a sigh. "One more kiss, husband to be. I will soon really be your ‘missus’ as they say, and we can go to work cleaning up the West. It seems to be profitable. Besides the find in the saddlebags, which we need to have appraised, we got two thousand nine hundred dollars from the bank finder’s fee, those wanted posters, and the saddlebags. That will provide us for at least two years, if not more. We can go hunting for several months and then come home to peace and quiet."

  “Are you out of your mind? You want us to become gunslingers?” Clint asked. “There must be safer occupations out there.”

  "But none are as exciting, and they don't pay well, either. Just think about it."

  "Oh hey, we forgot about that folio. Let's take a look see before we do anything else."

  Clint picked the folio up and carefully opened it. He stared at it for a few moments. His jaw dropped in disbelief. “Do you realize what this is?” Clint excitedly asked.

  His hands visibly shook as he smoothed the document out on the table. The vivid colors of the document shone in the sunlight. There was an embossed seal in gold foil on the upper left corner of the large document.

  “No, Darling. I don’t know what it is. It has a very ornate writing, but I don’t understand written Spanish and only a few phrases of spoken. I can ask where the bathroom is,” she added with a grin.

  Clint recognized the document the moment that he laid eyes on it. He had seen one in his comparative history class in college. It was one of the few ‘A's he'd gotten. The instructor was a long-legged redhead with a knockout figure. Most of the men left the classroom with their coats draped in front to hide the effects of her beauty.

  But she was a good teacher, too, and Clint learned a lot. They had studied Spain's hold on the Americas and the King's grants. Clint knew that he was looking at an original Spanish Land Grant. He knew the Union recognized those original land grants, and that they had made many a fortune with them. It was in Spanish, so he couldn't read it, but he knew that it was for a large area of land. The number 250,000 was prominent in the description and the map showed an area of where Colorado and New Mexico are now. That was south and west of where they presently were, but the area looked huge.

  They marveled at the size and scope of the land grant. Clint wondered who used to own this piece of land. It would explain the coins in that bag. A Spanish Land Grant superseded all other claims on the land given as part of the treaty with Spain. This piece of paper was more valuable than anything they ever imagined. They hugged at their good fortune. She kissed his nose and scampered into the other room and closed the door to change into more appropriate day wear.

  “I need to make an appointment with an attorney to get all our affairs in order. Hopefully there is one in town, or at least nearby. Getting married is really a big deal here. I also need to see about that document. We’ve got a virtual land goldmine if it’s real, but who would know? Maybe the attorney would have clues for me. I’ve got to see him as soon as I can.”

  The three days were going fast for the pair, and Aggie was a prominent figure in the wedding planning. They talked about the wedding, what they would be doing, and what would happen after the ceremony.

  “I have a question for you,” Aggie said as Janie and she talked about the future.

  “Just what do you plan on doing for a house? There are no houses available in town. The Miller family moved in the Olafssens’ old place about six months ago, and that was the only place not taken.

  “You know, I really hadn’t thought about a place to live yet. I want a nice place and I’m sure that Clint will want a place where we can raise kids… and horses… and cattle. He’s a real cowboy at heart.”

  A contented smile crossed her face as she fantasized about her husband to be. Janie was sure that he would provide her with a fitting abode. She pictured a large house, barns, and a white picket fence like they showed in the western movies.

  “I want a big place, so the town would be out, anyway. But I want it to be close, so that you can visit us whenever you want.” Janie told her.

  “Well, I for one sure hope so,” Aggie replied. “I hope that it is near enough so that we can remain friends. We’ve grown attached to each other and I feel like I have the sister I’d always wanted.”

  “You are my sister too. That’s how I think of you,” Janie said as she hugged the woman next to her. They had developed a deep friendship since the incident at the bank had brought them together. She hoped it would be a lifelong friendship that would outlast time itself.

  “So what do you think Clint will do for work, and what about you? Work or children?”

  “Whoa, Girl. Slow down. Kids will come when they come. As far as Clint, we talked about it, and he thinks that he wants to explore being a gunslinger for a while. There is a lot of reward money out there, and he is quick on the draw. I thought about going out with him, at least in the beginning, you know, before children.”

  “I dreamed those same dreams back east, but I didn’t find the right man as I got older. I finally gave up and answered that ad for a school teacher here in the Philadelphia Gazette. You don’t know how excited I was to embark on this new adventure. The town even paid for my train ticket to come out here.”

  Aggie continued “I had to wait until my teaching contract in Philadelphia was up before I could come. The town had planned for that contingency and everything was going along fine. The movers already packed me up once June came and school closed. All I had were my clothes, and a table and chair that my mother had given me. I sold the bed and chifforobe and collected my savings from the bank just before I left. I had almost five hundred dollars between my savings and what I got for my furniture.”

  “What I didn’t know was that a fever had swept through the town. My prospective charges, the children, were hit the hardest. Many of them didn’t survive. The town council greeted me when I arrived that day in late June, and informed that there would be no need for a schoolteacher. They told me the reason, and I thoroughly understood.”

  “I couldn’t go back. There was nothing there for me. I tried to make it here because the town was so nice. I tried to get employment everywhere, but no one needed extra help. I eventually gave up looking. I thought about going back to Philadelphia in my mind. I’m sure that I could get my teaching job back. The only problem I found was I c
ouldn’t face my peers after having failed.”

  Aggie sniffled, and Janie scooted over to lovingly put her arm around her friend. She consoled Aggie as best she could. The funk of depression finally faded.

  “The best thing about this is that I met you and we became friends,” Aggie said as she wiped a tear from her eye.

  Janie pulled the woman into another heartfelt hug. “We will always be best of friends. I give you my oath on that.”

  Today might prove to be an interesting day.

  The morning before the big day had Clint up early. The sun’s rays woke him. He tapped on the bedroom door with a soft touch. Clint waited and then knocked again. The door opened, and a vision greeted him. Her disheveled hair captured his gaze. Her eyes melted his heart once more. She responded to his soft touch and the light kiss he gave her.