Jeff walked into his ranch house as dark was beginning to settle into the front room. Glass from the windows was scattered about the floor and crackled under his boot soles. The room was empty; all his furniture, he guessed, had been divided up, carried away, and was sitting in some house, he reckoned. The front room’s ceiling had been shot several places, and the rain had leaked in some time ago by the looks of the water stains on the wooden floors. Someone had used the fireplace for cooking something besides firewood, from the looks of the mess of feathers they’d left behind. There was still enough light for Jeff to see as he entered his study. His books were gone; the shelves were empty. The windowpanes had been shot out, and someone had taken his trophy elk head that had been hanging on the wall.
“This is a room I enjoyed.” He stood there looking about. “But I guess the bedroom musta been the best room in this house though.” He smiled, remembering. Jeff was used to talking to himself. The time he’d spent in prison had taught him that he was his own best company to talk to. “Yep, and I’m damn good at listening to myself,” he muttered.
Ed walked up behind him. “I wouldn’t doubt that for a minute. Say, Jeff, your mare is still favoring her leg a right smart. I done all I knowed to do. I rubbed it good with liniment, and I fed both of ’em their oats. We’ll have to see how she puts her weight on that leg in the morning, won’t we?”
“Maybe we’ll have to find you another horse…You listening to me? Jeff?… Dammit… Jeff?”
Jeff turned his head. “What?”
“I said—”
“Yeah, I heard, Ed,” Jeff replied.
“You said my mare’s lame, so we’ll have to see if she’s still lame in the morning, won’t we? And if she is, we’ll leave her here and saddle up another. Or if we can’t find me a horse, I’ll walk,” Jeff replied.
“Say, would you rustle us up some firewood? Make sure it’s dry wood. It’s overcast some. Those are rainclouds in the sky. We may get some rain tonight. It feels a might chilly too. I’ll check around in here while you’re gone and make sure there aren’t any rattlers sleeping in here.”
“Please do that, boss, I’d ’preciate it. I’m plenty scared of them varmints,” he added as he lit a candle and placed it on the fireplace mantle. It added a nice, soft glow to the room, Ed thought. He then left to follow Jeff’s instructions. Jeff was a good boss to Ed and the only true friend that he’d ever been able to depend on in this world.
Chapter Two
Jeff entered the master bedroom’s walk-in closet and knelt. He lit a match to see there were no rattlers nearby; he removed two short boards in the back corner, reached down in the hole, and pulled up two leather bags, each tied with a leather twang. Jeff hefted the bags; he liked hearing the metallic sounds that gold coins made. He unbuttoned his shirt, slipped the bags in, and rebuttoned it. He went into her sitting room, as she’d called it, where she done her sewing.
Jeff stepped into her empty closet, turned around, and reached up high. “There you are…Hello there, Winnie, long time no see.” And he lifted “her” down, Jeff’s .44-40 Winchester fourteen-shot saddle carbine rifle, that he’d hidden there before he went to jail. She’d been resting up there, fully loaded, for almost three years. Now he had his gold coins and he had Winnie, and she felt damn good by his side.
“These are my first two chores, Sally,” Jeff whispered softly. “Now I got three more chores to get done, then it’ll be over and finished.” His hot blood had long since cooled down. Now he was executing his long-thought-out plans—in cold blood.
It was early dark; the moon’s rise wasn’t due for a while. Jeff was bone-tired after sitting a horse for mostly all day. He wasn’t hungry for food; he was hungry for blood, but right now, he needed some rest.
“No fire, Ed, just a cold supper of jerky.”
“That’s all we’re having?” Ed asked.
“Yep, snuff that candle too, we may need it later. Now let’s get some sleep,” Jeff replied as he rolled over into his blanket with his six-gun in his right fist.
“Ah, darn it, Jeff, I’m really hungry.”
“Well, damn it, Ed, you can eat some of our jerky, can’t you?”
With Winnie close by, just in case, Jeff relaxed. He’d had a long day, and he’d used some muscles today he hadn’t used in almost three years. He wanted to dream again of Sally. “I’ll start tomorrow, Sally,” he whispered. “I’ll finish this business with Murphy once and all. For both of us, I promise, Sally…so tired.” His thoughts eased some, and they backed off, into the darkness of night, and Jeff slipped into a deep sleep, and he dreamed of sweet and lovely long-ago times, of Sally and himself, when they were laughing and happy and in love.
Chapter Three
Jeff opened his eyes; he had a sour taste in his mouth. His eyes circled the room then looked at his pocket watch. It was way past dawn. They’d overslept. Daylight was already streaming in thru the open windows. Mornings here at the top of this hill, this time of the year, his ranch was always cold and damp. Jeff had forgotten. Now he remembered how he used to scrooch with Sally in their four-poster bed on the cold mornings. He’d gotten use to warmer weather where he’d been living. It seemed close to freezing on top of this hill in the mornings before the sun comes up. Of course, there’s no window glass in the house to keep the cold outside where it belonged, he remembered.
“Ed, get up.” Jeff slipped on his boots, he stomped twice to settle his toes into their places, and then on one knee, he used Ed’s dry kindling and some cottonwood fluff to start a small fire in the fireplace. Once burning, it would show no smoke out the chimney in case anyone happen to ride close enough this way. “Can’t be too careful and let Murphy know I’m already out of jail,” he murmured. Ed was up, moving slow as molasses, as usual.
“How ’bout I make us some breakfast?” Ed said. “I’ll cook it and—”
“No time, just coffee now. We’ll eat some jerky on the way. Get moving, Ed,” replied Jeff.
“I’m moving, Jeff.”
The small fire felt good. It helped to take the chill off his bones. Jeff took two sips of water from his canteen to wash the fuzz off his teeth and swallowed; he wet his kerchief, washed his face, squeezed out the water, and put the damp kerchief back around his neck. “Here, you need some water?” Ed took the canteen, filled the small coffeepot, added some Arbuckle’s coffee and set the pot on the fire, then as he squatted down by the hearth to warm his hands, he yawned and scratched under both his arms. Ed took a sip of water as he watched Jeff nearby.
Jeff removed Winnie’s cover, rolled it up, and put in it his saddlebag, then he levered her, injecting a .44-40 shell from her belly into her barrel and eased down her hammer. He slipped another shell in the side slot. Now she was full up. Winnie was ready for travel. He checked his Colt. It had five bullets in the cylinder as he spun it. He’d add another one when needed. he was safe for now with five.
Jeff was silent until Ed handed him a steaming cup of coffee; he took a sip, then he spoke. “I want to be at Murphy’s place by sundown. I want to kill that son of a bitch before dark today.”
“Ed, I surely missed your Arbuckle’s while I was in that place. What they served us wasn’t fit to drink most of the time.”
“Thanks, Jeff, I’m glad about the coffee, and I’m glad you’re out of that jail and back home. It’s been a long spell and I’ve been used some and have barely got by without you being here.