CHAPTER ONE
Slim Sherman knew when Jess
Harper’s eyes darkened that was a signal that his friend’s temper was about to
burst. At that moment, Slim had never
seen the young ranch hand’s eyes so dark, for Jess’ crystal blue eyes had
turned to the color of midnight blue.
It wasn’t just Slim who knew
Jess was angry. Though Jess had not yet said a word, everyone standing in the
sheriff’s office knew that Jess’ anger was on the verge of exploding. And no
one had any doubt that Mort Corey had been the one to spark Jess’ rage.
Mort only added to the flame
when he said, “I’m just saying it might be good idea for you to stay away from
Laramie for a few weeks.”
Ire sounded in every word
that Jess spoke, “I didn’t do nothing wrong. I was the one provoked.”
“That’s right, it was self
defense,” Slim acknowledged. “Ask anyone in the saloon. They all saw what
happened. Jess had no choice.”
“I’m not saying that he
did,” Mort replied calmly as he opened the small door to the potbelly stove.
Winter and summer, Mort kept a fire going so he could always have hot coffee
ready for himself and any drunks he might arrest. Mort now added another log to
the already blazing fire. Sparks flew as the embers crackled loudly, but this
fire was nothing compared to the heat that radiated off Jess. Mort continued, “But this is the second gun
fight in less than two weeks that Jess had been in.”
Jess started to reply but
Mort held up his hand for silence. “I know. The last one was self-defense too.
But...”
The entrance of the undertaker
silenced the sheriff. Mort eyed the
intruder with impatience. “Well?”
The man tossed a pair of
saddlebags onto the scarred desk. “I took his horse to the stable. I reckon the
town will send me the money to bury him.”
“I reckon they will,” Mort
replied. “Thanks, Chet.”
Chet grunted his displeasure
which only added more tension to the room.
As the mortician left the
sheriff’s office, Mort began sorting through the contents of the saddlebags.
There wasn’t much. Slim and Jess eyed
each piece that Mort pulled out. The last item, an envelope, had all eyes
locked on it.
Mort read the name on the
envelope. The name meant nothing to
Jess. “How about Jack Phillips in Carson Springs? That’s who sent it.”
“I ain’t ever even been to
Carson Springs.”
Mort let out a slow whistle
as he opened the envelope. He silently counted. “One thousand dollars.” Mort
scrutinized Jess cautiously. “A large amount for a man to be carrying.”
Jess answered, “Mort, you
know the same as I do. That man I killed was a professional.”
Mort nodded. “That’s what
I’m figuring. And the man before him, I’m betting he was too. Way I remember he
had close to five hundred in his wallet. Price must be going up.”
“Seems to me that someone
wants me dead,” Jess stated. “Awful bad.”
“And you’ve never been to
Carson Springs?” Mort questioned.
“That’s what I said!” Jess
snapped.
“Easy Jess,” Slim cooed,
“Mort’s just trying to figure all of this out.”
Jess took off his dusty hat
and ran his hands through his dark hair. “I know.”
“Jess, why don’t I wire the
sheriff in Carson Springs and ask about this Jack Phillips?” Mort suggested.
Jess shook his head. “I got a better idea. I’m riding there
tomorrow morning. I’ll ask him in person.”
The sheriff immediately
disagreed, “Now Jess, if there is someone looking to do you in then...”
“Then I want to know why,”
Jess cut in. “Unless you’re figuring that I’m to stay away from Laramie
forever.”
“Of course not,” Mort
barked. He saw the determination on Jess’ face. And that look told him
everything. He knew from past experience that there was no talking to Jess once
this ranch hand had his mind made up. “Oh all right. Have it your way. But at
least let me wire the sheriff...”
“I’d rather you wouldn’t,”
Jess disagreed. “I don’t want anyone to know that I’m going there. Don’t want
to give anyone time to welcome me with another hired gun.”
Mort’s eyes lowered as he
thought about what Jess had said.
“Makes sense,” Slim added.
Mort finally nodded
reluctantly.
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