Boone Creek Page 3

  Jessie bent down, picking up the broom. The woman grabbed it from her hand, rushing around the counter to stow it against a shelf.

  “Welcome to Fray’s General Trade,” she said, finally finding her voice. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

  Jessie tried to ignore the soft brown eyes questioning her. “I was hoping your husband could order something for me.”

  “He can’t,” she said sternly.

  “Okay…”

  “I don’t have a husband.”

  “Okay…”

  “I do,” she corrected. “He’s…he died.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry. I—”

  “It’s fine,” she replied sharply. “What would you like me to order? I don’t usually do a lot of town to town trading.”

  “You don’t like me, do you?”

  “I don’t know you,” she said matter-of-factly. “However, I did know Marshal Milford. He was a friend.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Did you shoot him?” she questioned, crossing her arms.

  “No!” Jessie snapped in surprise.

  “Then why are you sorry?”

  Jessie stared at her in bewilderment. She was very pretty, too pure to be laboring in a store. “I’m sorry Marshal Milford died.”

  “Mayor Montgomery said you shot the guys who murdered him.”

  Jessie nodded. “I did.”

  “Well…thank you,” she murmured.

  “What’s your name?” Jessie asked.

  “Ellie…Fray.”

  “Jessie Henry.”

  “What did you need me to order, Marshal Henry?”

  “I forgot,” Jessie said, getting lost in the gold flecks of her brown eyes.

  Ellie broke their gaze and moved out from behind the counter.

  “I do need some soap flakes, a toothbrush, a couple of cigars, a box of matches, and a jar of lamp oil,” Jessie said, trying to think of the essential necessities.

  Ellie collected the items, setting them on the counter one by one. “That’ll be two trade dollars.”

  Jessie reached into her vest pocket, pulling out two silver coins, which she placed on the counter since Ellie hadn’t held out her hand. She put her hat back on and gathered her purchase. No words were exchanged as she left.

  ***

  After dropping her personal items off at her room in the brothel, Jessie headed over to the Rustler’s Den Saloon using the path down Six Gun Alley that led to the back entrance. The sun had finally gone down behind the mountain, leaving Boone Creek in the dim, flickering light of the kerosene street lanterns. She was tired from her long travels, but if there was one thing she knew, trouble came out at night.

  A couple dozen men were inside the saloon. Most of them were sitting or standing around the Faro and dice games being played. Everyone else was either at the bar, or sitting at regular tables. A pianist played a string of songs on the upright piano in the corner. A handful of saloon girls moved about, talking to different patrons and gamblers, encouraging them to spend more money in the establishment.

  “You clean up good,” Elmer said, pouring a glass of whiskey and sliding it over to Jessie.

  She raised a brow and sat on the stool. The glass had barely touched her lips when a saloon girl brushed her side and leaned against the bar, holding up two fingers. “Nice to see you again…Marshal,” Lita said.

  Jessie watched Elmer pour two glasses of whiskey and give them to her. She pulled a handful of bit coins from a hidden pocket in her corset, and placed them on the wooden bar top. Then, she grabbed one of the glasses and clinked it against Jessie’s.

  “Cheers,” she said with a wink and a grin before sipping from the glass.

  Jessie took a swallow from her own drink, knowing it would be impolite not to drink when someone propositioned you. She watched as Lita sashayed away, taking the drinks to the men she was entertaining at a nearby table.

  Elmer watched the exchange without saying anything, and quickly went back to pouring more drinks when Jessie turned back to her glass. She’d barely taken another sip when the Faro game ended and a man began yelling at the dealer about cheating. With the time it took him to draw his gun, Jessie was behind him, knocking him upside the head with the butt of her pistol and spinning it in her hand so fast, the other men barely saw what happened as the knocked out man fell to the ground.

  “Anyone else have a problem?” she asked, moving her jacket to reveal her badge.

  Two guys helped the man from the ground, get up and go outside.

  “Who the hell are you?” one of the men questioned as he wobbled around, obviously quite drunk.

  Jessie looked at his dingy clothing. He resembled a vagabond more than a gambler. “I’m the law in this town. If you don’t like it, you’re more than welcome to get your ass on a horse and ride off. I believe the exit is that way,” she replied, pointing with her empty hand, while still aiming her cocked pistol at the men gathered around the table. The click of the hammer was heard across the silent bar as she released it and holstered the weapon.

  “You’d better be careful,” Elmer said as she walked back to the bar. “That was ‘High Card’ Jack you walloped.”

  “Do I look scared?” she asked.

  “No…and that might be a little scarier.”

  Jessie shrugged.

  “You made a mistake, Lady Law,” the drunkard yelled, shaking his head.

  Jessie moved to get off her stool and Elmer grabbed her hand.

  “Give it a rest, Otis,” he yelled. “He’s harmless. His mouth is a lot bigger than his bite, trust me. It gets him into all kinds of trouble around here.”

  “Is it always this quiet?” Jessie asked sarcastically.

  “Mayor Montgomery wasn’t kidding when he said this town needed to be cleaned up.”

  “Yeah…well, maybe he made a bad choice in marshals.”

  “No.” Elmer shook his head. “I think he got it right. Just watch your back. They’ll be gunning for you.”

  “Who?”

  “The outlaws who think they run Boone Creek…starting with ‘High Card’ Jack.”

  Jessie finished her drink and waved Elmer off when he went to pour another. “I’m calling it a night,” she said. “I’m boarding at Miss Mable’s…if things get out of hand again,” she added as she stood up. She tipped her hat in Lita’s direction on her way out the door.

  ***

  Jessie made her way around the painted ladies, waiting for callers, as she walked up the stairs to her room. Thankfully, only two had given her a second glance, and even then, they were probably only interested in the money. A woman walking into a brothel, looking for company, was something that didn’t happen often. However, if you had the money, it didn’t matter what sex you were.

  Jessie used the dim lighting from the hall lamps to illuminate her room while she lit the kerosene lamp on the bedside table. Then, she closed the door and twisted the iron lock. After removing her hat and coat, she peeled her boots off and placed her gun belt on the floor beside them, with her pistol going next to the lamp on the table. Once she’d stripped down to her under clothes and splashed water from the washing bowl on her face, she used her new tooth brush and sat down on the bed. The lumpy, old mattress felt like a cloud as she stretched out on her back and closed her eyes. “What the hell have you gotten yourself into?” she whispered as she began to drift off to sleep.

  Sometime later, the sound of heavy boot steps outside her door made Jessie snap wide awake. She sat on the bed with her pistol trained on the closed door and her eyes focused in the darkness. The little bit of kerosene she’d poured in the lamp to start it, had long burned off, causing the light to go out.

  “Damn it,” she mumbled, realizing a harlot had picked up company for the night as the voices of a man and a woman carried down the hallway. She got up to relieve herself in the chamber pot, and glanced out the window. The stars were still shining brightly a
nd the street below was dark and empty. She stifled a yawn and went back to bed.

  SIX

  Over the next few days, Jessie began to get the lay of the land in the small town. She’d spent most of her time walking the streets, making her presence known. At night, she’d broken up a couple of fights between drunks in the saloon and theatre, but other than that, she hadn’t seen much of the supposed trouble the mayor had spoken about.

  “You must be the infamous Marshal Henry,” a man called from an open doorway as Jessie passed by. He was wearing a black suit with a black satin ribbon as a bowtie.

  She nodded, tipping her hat to him.

  “I don’t suppose you’re interested in coming inside,” he said, chewing on the corner of his brown mustache.

  Jessie stopped walking and shook her head when she looked at the large cross on the roof of the small building.

  “Oh, I promise you won’t go up in flames. That’s a myth.” He smiled.

  “Still…probably better if I don’t take my chances,” she replied.

  “All right. How about I come out to you, then?” he said, walking out of the building and into the street. “I’m Pastor Noah,” he added, extending his hand.

  Jessie had never stepped foot inside of a church. Her mother hadn’t exactly been on the church’s good side back home, so it wasn’t a weekly tradition as a kid, and as she got older, her lifestyle wasn’t welcomed either. Nevertheless, she met his hand with her own, surprised the touch hadn’t zapped the life right out of her.

  “See, I told you I was harmless.” He smiled. “You’ve made quite an impression, and you’ve been here what…three days?”

  “Why is that?”

  “Word on the street is Jack Donovan is looking for you.”

  “I’ve been right here this whole time, so he must not be looking too hard.” Jessie shrugged.

  “I heard you gave him a good knocking on the head a few nights ago.”

  She nodded.

  “That Jack,” he sighed, shaking his head. “He’s never going to get it together, I’m afraid.”

  “How long has he been a problem around here?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. He blows in and out of town every couple of months, but he’s usually going like his hair is on fire when he’s here. He’s not the only one. I mean, sure, we have our fair share of unruly residents around Boone Creek. I pray for their souls to find the right path every day. However, like all towns, we have outlaws that come in running amuck. That seems to be happening more and more lately. Maybe the mayor is right.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He stood up in front of the congregation at Sunday service yesterday and told the whole town that you were going to clean this place up, give it the law and order that it needed, and if they didn’t like you or your rules, there are two roads that lead out of Boone Creek.”

  Jessie was taken aback.

  “He has high hopes in you and your abilities.”

  “And you?” she asked.

  “I don’t know you, so I can’t cast judgment. Nonetheless, I pray for you every day, just like I do for the rest of this town.”

  “Thanks, Pastor. I could probably use it.”

  “We all could. No one’s perfect, Marshal Henry. Not you, not I, not any of us.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.”

  He smiled. “You don’t have to come inside the building, you know. You can stand right here and listen to receive the word of God. You should try it sometime. I give sermons every Sunday morning at precisely nine a.m.”

  “Maybe one day.”

  “You can still stop by from time to time, Marshal. I enjoy talking to you.” He smiled again.

  “Thank you.”

  “Be on the lookout for Jack. I don’t want our next conversation to be your last rites.”

  “I’m not catholic.”

  “Well, neither am I, so that’s a good thing,” he replied with a grin.

  Jessie shook her head and began walking again.

  “He might do you a bit of good,” Ellie called out as Jessie came within earshot. She’d been watching from her store front as the marshal conversed with the pastor.

  “Oh, you think so?” Jessie replied. “I wasn’t aware that I needed saving.”

  “We all need saving, Marshal.”

  “Maybe so,” Jessie said, stepping up onto the sidewalk in front of the Marshal’s Office. She leaned back against the post with her hands resting on her gun belt, and her eyes trained on the shopkeeper across the way.

  Ellie went back to sweeping the dust from the inside of her store, in between waiting on customers.

  “That woman hates me,” Jessie muttered.

  “Marshal, we have bigger problems,” Bert said, hearing her mumbling as he walked up.

  Jessie pinned him with a stare and pulled a cigar from the inside pocket of her coat. Before she could strike the match in her hand he blurted out, “High Card Jack is looking for you. He’s down at Rustler’s Den saying he’s going to kill you.”

  “Oh, for crying out loud,” she grumbled, shaking her head as she tucked the cigar away. “Let’s go.”

  “Go?! Go, where?”

  “Rustler’s Den.”

  “What? Why?” Bert stammered.

  “We can’t have an outlaw threatening the life of the Town Marshal, and I take personal threats on my life seriously.”

  Bert swallowed the lump in his throat as they stepped off the sidewalk.

  ***

  Ellie watched the two of them circle back around behind the Marshal’s Office from her view on the sidewalk outside of her store. “I don’t like the looks of this,” she said to Pastor Noah as he walked past her and stepped inside to make a purchase.

  “She’ll be fine, don’t worry,” he said without looking back.

  “I’m not worried,” Ellie growled. “She’s going to go down there and get herself killed.”

  “You sound worried.”

  Ellie huffed and walked inside. “You seem to like her.”

  “What’s not to like? She hasn’t done anything wrong, as far as I know,” he replied, grabbing a can of tea leaves and a jar of quick-rub.

  “You don’t find it odd that she’s a lady marshal?”

  “People might say you’re not exactly proper either, running this store all on your own as a widow, and all.”

  Ellie rolled her eyes. “I don’t have time for knitting clubs and tea parties. I have to earn a living. I guess everyone expected me to sell the store and marry the first gentleman caller who came to my door.”

  “I think everyone has an opinion, but that doesn’t mean everyone is right…about you, or Marshal Henry. The lord says we should all live and let live…although he uses a little more words than that.” He smiled.

  “That shoulder still bothering you?” she asked, ringing up his purchase at the register.

  “Not so much anymore. I’ve been having a little trouble sleeping at night,” he answered, placing a trade dollar coin and two quarter dollar coins on the counter. “Doc Vernon said to add some quick-rub to a cup of tea and give that a try.”

  “What? He told you to drink it?” she exclaimed.

  “Sure did, and I’m going to give it a try tonight.”

  Ellie shook her head. “You’d better come by and see me tomorrow so I know you’re still alive.”

  Pastor Noah laughed. “Don’t worry. God isn’t keeping me up at night because he intends to kill me.”

  “If you say so,” she mumbled, smiling as she waved goodbye.

  The sound of gunfire grabbed Ellie’s attention. She moved to the window to see what was happening. Unfortunately, that sound was fairly common in Boone Creek, especially in the last year or so. Although mostly heard at night, there were many afternoons when the shots rang out as well.

  ***

  “You come on out now, Lady Marshal!” ‘High Card’ Jack yelled from his position in
the middle of Six Gun Alley.

  Jessie and Bert watched him, acting like a fool in the middle of the alleyway behind the Rustler’s Den Saloon, from their position atop the brothel. They’d gone through the attic and climbed up onto the roof of the two story structure from the attic window.

  “This is a good rifleman position. Keep that in mind,” she whispered, looking around. She pretty much had the entire alley in her view.

  “What are you going to do about him?” Bert murmured, pointing down as ‘High Card’ Jack fired another shot into the air.

  “Oh, for crying out loud!” she yelled. “At least aim at something!” she added, drawing her pistol and firing it at the ground near his feet. The bullet hit the dirt, causing dust to fly up.

  “You missed me!” he shouted.

  “If I’d wanted you dead, you would’ve been ten minutes ago. Put that damn pistol away before I knock you silly again,” she hollered. “All right, Bert, I’m going to go back down,” she said quietly, watching Jack move further down the alley towards the back of the bath house, which was a few buildings down from the Rustler’s Den. Before he sees me, you fire another shot at his feet to catch him off guard. Just don’t shoot the nitwit,” she whispered, backing away from her position.

  “Wait! Why do I have to shoot at him?”

  “Because you’ll distract him while I go out there and take him down.”

  “Why don’t you just shoot him or something?”

  “He hasn’t shot anyone…yet. There’s no need to shoot him. When you hear me yell your name, fire the shot,” she said softly, before going through the window and into the attic.

  “He’s going to kill someone,” Miss Mable said.

  “Not if I have anything to do about it,” Jessie replied. “You all need to get to the back of the house and stay down like I told you.”