“All black, queen high,” Jon announced as the spade flush became visible to the other players. They just shook their heads. It looked like another winner for big Jon.
“Well, you better get that fixed,” Ed said as he quickly laid down his hand. “Full up, Jacks and threes!” Ed snickered as he leaned forward to rake in the pot.
“There’s over two hundred dollars in that pot!” someone shouted.
“Yea, it’s a good one alright, but I still ain’t well by a long shot,” the smiling Ed replied.
“Quit complaining, you no account sidewinder!” Jon barked as he watched his friend drag in the biggest pot of the day. “You’re about the luckiest varmint I’ve ever seen!”
Ed just smiled as he carefully stacked the pot full of silver dollars.
“If I keep winning like this, I’ll be able to quit my deputy sheriff’s job and become a professional. Don’t you think so, Jon?”
“I wouldn’t make any rash decisions. I’ve seen people starving before and it ain’t a pretty sight.” Jon grinned as he carefully flicked his ashes in the small metal tray.
“Yea, yea, starving my foot,” the feisty Ed retorted not wanting Jon to get in the last word.
Just then a soft, gentle voice interrupted the two friendly combatants. Elizabeth Thompson, the beautiful owner of the Barbee, had just returned from a visit to the bank and was approaching the table. Once a renowned actress from New York City, for reasons unknown, she had moved west to open the Barbee a year earlier. When Jon arrived in town, the sparks flew almost immediately between the seductive actress, better known as Libby, and himself. They were soon a couple.
“My oh my, you boys are at it again. If I didn’t know better, I would actually think you didn’t like each other,” Libby said as she walked gracefully over and put her arm around Jon’s big muscular shoulders.
“You sure are a sight for sore eyes, Miss Libby,” Jon said. Smoke curled up as he punched out his cigar and laid it in the ashtray. He slid his arm around her tiny waist and gently pulled her a little closer. “How’s my girl?” Jon checked his hole card with his free hand, still waiting for his up card.
“Just fine, thank you honey.”
Libby looked stunning in her full length dark blue gown and white neck scarf. A gold earring dangled from each ear and a delicate gold necklace seemed to draw attention to her bare, well proportioned shoulders. Her long auburn hair was combed upward into a bun, adorned by a blue onyx hair pin. The delicate features of her beautiful face were lit up with a never ending smile. To all these men way out in the Sonoran Desert, she was indeed a sight for sore eyes.
“I’ll let you fellows finish your game, I’ve got plenty to do around here. And don’t forget Jon, you promised to take this girl to dinner tonight. So don’t lose it all,” Libby said flirtatiously.
Jon beamed at his lovely Elizabeth.
“Oh don’t worry Libby.” Camp Wilson, stable hand and part time deputy, jumped into the conversation. “If Jon goes bust, one of us would be happy to fill in. How about it, boys?” The other men smiled, there heads rapidly nodding in agreement.
“Now just hold on there,” Jon exclaimed loudly. “It’ll be a cold day in Hades before this lovely lady goes to dinner with one of you claim jumpers.”
“Claim jumper, is it? That’s it, put ‘em up Sheriff.” Young Camp jumped up, his fists rotated in front of him, challenging Jon to a mock fight. Everybody at the table joined into a spontaneous round of laughter, as the lawman put his hands up, palms forward in defeat; all the while grinning from ear to ear at his young friend’s antics.
The fun didn’t last long. Suddenly two shots rang out and screams could be heard coming from the street in front of the Barbee. The shots seemed to be coming from the area around the general store, caddy cornered from the saloon.
Jon jumped up instinctively; gathered his coins, stuffed them in his jeans.
“Excuse me Darlin’.” Jon tipped his hat to Miss Libby as he made a hasty exit out the door.
“Please be careful Jon,” Libby pleaded, as Jon rushed toward yet another possible shootout. Libby and the others were close behind.
This town sure is changing, Jon thought. The wooden step creaked as he stepped down off the boardwalk. Since the nearby Brockston silver mine busted open, it seemed like every conman, card shark, rustler, rounder, and gunslinger had decided to call Logan’s Crossing home. The now famous town had become a magnet for all sorts of bad actors. A new raucous saloon had recently opened down the street.
Jon’s heart raced as he charged across the dusty street toward the hardware store. As he got closer, he could see chubby storeowner Bill Webster looking down at the ground. A crowd quickly gathered; their faces told Jon that someone was badly hurt.
Jon’s eyes went to the ground; he saw the long slim body of his deputy, Jack Malone, lying on the street. Jon felt like he’d been punched hard in the gut. Jack’s white cotton shirt was stained red with blood.
Doc Fletcher arrived and dropped down on both knees next to the wounded deputy. He snapped open his black leather bag and yanked out his stethoscope. He ripped Jack’s shirt open and placed the end of the scope on Jack’s chest. His fingers pressed around on his ribs and stomach, checking for internal injuries.
“How’s he doing Doc?” Big Jon knelt down next to his deputy.
“He’s lost a little blood Jon, but I don’t think they hit any vital organs. The bullet passed clear through his side; he should be okay.” The doc took the stethoscope from around his neck and stuffed it back in the bag.
Jon leaned down and laid his big hand gently on his friend’s shoulder. “Doc says you’re going to be okay, so hang tough, Partner. I’m going after the sidewinder that shot you directly, so do what the doc tells you, okay?”
Jack nodded, too weak to talk.
Jon stood up and spoke to the store owner, “What happened here Bill?’
“A couple of… a…a bad apples tried to rob the store and then they shot Jack here when he…a... came to help!” The store owner was very upset, still very much shaken by the sight of Deputy Malone taking a bullet to the chest.
“Just calm down a little Bill and give me as many details as you can,” Jon said calmly.
“Sorry Jon.” Bill took a deep breath went on. “These two culprits have been working a claim on the edge of the canyon for the past several months. Poor old Will Harmon’s claim, the one he was working when he was murdered. Everybody told them that the claim was burnt out, but they wouldn’t listen. They bought them an outfit and went to work. The vein went bust after awhile. They owed money to a lot of people here in town, including me. I told them they could pay me so much a week, but that didn’t work out. So I cut them off the other day and told them not to come back until they paid their bill. When they came in the store today, I refused to sell them anything and they got real mean. One of ‘em pulled a Derringer out of his inside vest pocket and put it to my head, while the other one went around the store throwing stuff in a canvas bag.” Bill stopped for a minute to collect his thoughts.
“What happened next?” Jon pulled out his Army Colts and spun the cylinders to be sure they were fully loaded.
“I started yelling at the varmint who was stealing all of my stuff. Someone heard the commotion and went and got Deputy Malone. When Jack ran over to see what was going on, the lowlife who was holding the gun to my head let Jack have it point blank. I yelled and he hit me over the head with the butt of his gun. I fell to the floor like a sack of potatoes. I been seeing stars ever since. One of my customers told me they threw all the