A/N First lets talk about three things.
Length; this chapter is pretty long so you'll need some time to spare (I had to force myself to stop writing) Once again there is a bit of jumping around
I'm laying down the foundation for some future storylines in this chapter, so I apologize if you get a bit lost with all that is going on.
Violence; Ok this chapter contains more violence than the previous ones. However, it is nothing to grave
Enjoy the chapter (hopefully you will)
Bullets thumped against the front side of the cabin as Betty Director dropped below the window ledge.
"Good lord," Jenkins cried as he pressed against the floor, "do something Constable."
Will fired through the window before ducking back down. "This cabin was built to hold off Apaches, we might be able to hold them off if…"
"If what?"
"If we don't run out of ammunition first" He stood and fired through the window again before dropping back to the ground. "These fools are really testing my patience."
Betty Director leveled another round into her rifle chamber. "Hold steady Will, a good officer keeps his mind clear no matter what the situation is." She aimed out the window and fired three quick shots. She stopped firing, when she heard man scream and his body fall to the ground. "But you're right, they've got the bulge on us, our ammunition is worth more than gold to us right now and we're goners if they rush us."
"Marshal," Jenkins called out, "if we are to lose, please save a bullet for Miss Walton," he said in a serious tone. "Do you understand what I am asking of you?"
It took a moment before Will realized what Barnaby meant. "What? I can't do that!"
"You must!" He shouted over the sound of flying bullets. "If worse comes to worse, you must not allow those ruffians to get a hold of her."
"Jenkins!" Veronica screamed.
"He must, it his duty as a man and an officer."
Will knew that Jenkins spoke the truth. If they were overcome, he and Jenkins would certainly be killed quickly but the women… a quick death was certainly better than the alternative.
What about Betty, would she take her own life or would he have to… how could he, she was the woman who raised him for most of his life. No, he had to, he had to be strong enough…
"Will!"
He gasped when he realized that he had been holding his breath. "Yeah?"
"Will, don't get lost on me, we need you here now!"
"Yes… right."
"Damn it." Seth Beechum crawled towards his bed. He flipped his mattress over, revealing two large bags. "I'll be dammed if die here." He reached into one of the bags and pulled out a stick of dynamite. He touched the six-inch wick of the stick to his gas lamp and turned towards the window.
"Get out of the way!"
Will and Betty ducked and braced themselves against the floor as Seth hurled the lit stick in a high arc out the window. The cabin seemed to sway backwards from the impact of the explosion.
"Do you think that got their attention?" Will shouted.
As the dust settled from the explosion, the three remaining outlaws argued amongst themselves about their next move.
"Sweet Jesus, they've got dynamite in there. If that stick had landed any closer we'd be deader than hell."
"I've had more than enough of this," said another outlaw. "If the rifle fire don't get us, the dynamite will. Fifty dollars a month just ain't enough for me to deal with dynamite."
"Yea, we lost more than half our men. If that cheap bastard Dawson wants us to do his dirty work, we best be getting some better wages."
The other outlaws agreed, spurred the horses on and rode away.
Will peeked through the window to see the outlaws riding off towards the east. "I think the dynamite did the trick, they're turning tail."
"Are you sure?" Veronica said from the floor.
"Yes," Betty answered after checking for herself. "We better move too in case they return with more men." She turned to Seth. "We're obliged for---"
"I didn't help you, I was saving my own hide," he replied with a hand full of dynamite.
"Well thanks anyway, and you can drop those now. I've still got you covered."
"Of course," he sneered as he placed the remaining dynamite back into the bag. "Anything for you Marshal."
On the other side of the room Veronica and Jenkins brushed the dust off their clothes. "Jenkins, how could you ask the Marshal to do such a thing?"
"Young Miss, it was for the best, you cannot imagine what horrors men like those are capable of."
She sighed. "I appreciate your concern Jenkins, but I'm well aware of what men like those can do."
Will turned away from their conversation and turned to Betty "I…"
"I'm sure you would have done the right thing."
"Yeah, I would have," he lied to her, as he silently cursed himself showing a moment of weakness. "I would have."
"Now back to you," Betty said. "About Stoppable, we heard he's a good friend of yours."
Seth spat on the ground. "That traitor ain't no friend of mine."
"Didn't you two ride together as outlaws?"
Seth folded his arms. "Maybe we did."
"Liar!" Veronica shouted at him "He would neve---" she stopped mid-sentence. "I'm sorry, that was a bit rude of me, go on with your conversation."
Will and Betty glanced at each other.
"Right," Will said.
A smile came to Seth's face. "Well gook luck finding him. I'm of the opinion he ain't in Texas anymore."
"So you do know where he is."
"I might, but being on the run from the law sure takes a toll on man. Worrying about jail can make a man forgetful."
Will and Betty glanced at each other again.
"Let's make a deal."
"How about if I decorate these walls with your brain," Will threatened.
Seth opened his arms wide, "Go ahead Marshal, I'm a true outlaw. I'm ready to die at any moment."
"What do you want?" Betty asked.
"Just get me out of Texas and I'll tell you what rock Stoppable is hiding under. Oh, and I get to keep the money I stole."
Will made a move to pistol whip Seth across the head when Betty pulled him back. "So you're sure you know where Stoppable is?"
"It's very likely he's where I think he is. If he ain't there now he had to have gone there at some point. I've been meaning to seek him out myself, put a bullet in his back for what he did," he looked at Will, "but seeing as he's a wanted man, I'll let the law work for me this time."
"All we have to do is get you out of Texas?"
"Yes."
"Are we sure we can trust him?" Will whispered to Betty.
"We've got no choice, without him we've got nothing."
Will leered at Seth, she was right. No matter how much he hated dealing with a criminal they had no choice. Seth and Stoppable were just stepping-stones to a greater, more important prize.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Two days later
Draw.
Cock the hammer as it swings up towards you.
Aim for the target, heart, head, arms or legs.
Squeeze the trigger.
Anticipate the recoil; cock the hammer.
Aim.
Squeeze the trigger.
Draw, hammer, aim, squeeze, anticipate, hammer, aim, squeeze.
Ron repeated the mental exercise in his head repeatedly; he imagined the kick of the gun and the smell of gunfire. Although it could never replace the practice of actually firing a gun, the mental practice helped to the point where he could draw without thinking. It had almost become second nature to him, that is if shooting a man was considered a natural act.
"Cooley!"
Ron came out of his mental daze.
"That's the most focused I've ever seen him," someone said.
"Focused or offish?"
Ron turned his attention to his fellow cowhands. The eight of them were now standing on Chick Moore's property, the Bar B ranch. In the house, a few yards away, James Possible and Chick Moore were discussing their next move. They had a decision to make and it would affect the lives of everyone involved.
"This isn't the time to be staring off like some dang fool," John said to Ron.
"You reckon we're gonna have to fight?" Billy asked.
John looked at him incredulously. "Billy, a boy your age shouldn't be a fool."
"I'm not a fool."
"Well excuse me but you sure do ask fool questions."
"He's right Billy, they stole some of our stock. If we don't do something, every rustler on this side of the Rio will think the Circle C is an easy target. James Possible is no tenderfoot. He's a man who's been through the mill, he'll do the right thing."
Billy just shook his head.
"This is a something a lot of cowhands have to face. Whenever there's cattle, there's sure to be some stealin," Stanly Colbert said with finality.
Ron was standing next to his horse when it nicked him slightly. It did so whenever a stranger approached. This immensely valuable trait had saved Ron's life more than once out in the badlands.
He turned to the approaching man. "Look what the wolves dragged in, its Willis Durant," exclaimed Bo Taggert.
"Who is Willis Durant?" Ron asked Billy.
"He's the Bar B foreman."
"So what's the good word Willie?"
"Word is not in yet, but I'd be shocked if we were not riding into Avery's place real soon." He looked at Ron. "Who's this?"
"This is our new hand Ron Cooley," John answered.
"This young looking shave tail, he's still between hay and grass."
"Hey now," said Bo, "he may be a good for nothing lazy son of---"
"Ok," Ron said.
"----- but he can bake a mean doughnut. And to me, a good bear sign is more valuable than gold."
"Yep, he's a cook to the manner born," Kip agreed. "Plus, nobody can make fun of him 'cept us."
Ron sighed. "I'm obliged fellas."
"Man, what's going on in there? I want to wiggle on back to town and speak to Amelia."
Stanly rolled his eyes. "You know, I'm tired of your namby-pamby attitude Billy. Thinking about things like your gal is not going to help you during a gun fight."
"Bo, I've seen you shoot," Willis began, "why don't you give your boys some pointers?"
"Shooting cans ain't the same as shooting a man, there's nothing I could say to these men to prepare them for that. I've never killed a man which is something queer, considering how many bad men I used to ride with."
"Did you ever meet any famous gunmen?" Antonio asked.
Bo mulled the question over. "Many years back, in Topeka, I saw Fast Timothy Murdoch shoot two men down before their hands could reach their pistol butts."
Billy's eyes opened wide. "Wow, Timothy Murdoch, was he really fast?"
Bo laughed. "They wouldn't call him Fast Timothy Murdoch if he wasn't fast."
"See what I said about the fool questions," John told them.
Antonio spoke up. "When I was a boy, just hearing Murdoch's name would have men shaking in their boots. Some say he was the fastest gun ever, a true demon."
"They say he started killing the second he got a hold of a gun. The most cold blooded killer to ever walk the plains," Willie added.
"Timothy Murdoch was a great man."
They all turned towards Ron who stared off into the countryside. "Timothy Murdoch didn't start off as a gunmen, he was a bunko artist, who at the age of eighteen wandered from town to town cheating his way towards a small fortune. His legend began when he cheated Quick Charlie Tucker out of his 'hard earned' money. Quick Charlie and two of his friends tried to dry gulch Timothy in the middle of the night. Quick Charlie lived up to his name and he pulled on Timothy before he could even think of grabbing for his gun."
"So how did he survive?" Billy asked
"Charlie missed. Somehow, even though he was no more than eight feet away from Timothy, he missed. Seeing this as an opportunity Timothy dropped Quick Charlie before he could cock his hammer again. Charlie's friends were so shocked to see him killed; they did not notice Timothy aiming for them; three shots, three bodies on the ground in less than a minute, not bad for a man who had never fired a gun before."
Ron paused for a moment. "Unfortunately for Timothy, there were a couple of witnesses who had seen the incident, from across the street in the dark. By the time he left town in the morning, Timothy was unknowingly a legend in the making."
"The failed ambush scared Timothy so bad he practiced drawing and shooting whenever he had free time. But by killing Quick Charlie, he'd made himself a target to anyone who wanted to make a name as a fast gunslinger. The next four men Timothy killed were gunfighters who tried to ambush him. He was being watched everywhere he went. So Timothy started to study how people acted towards him. Wherever he went, he paid close attention to shifty eyes, twitching shoulders, and shallow breathing. It got to a point where he could tell if someone was going to draw before they did. It didn't take long before he started to live up to his name. He killed seven more men before he retired, all of them in self-defense."
"Retired?" said Willis. "He never retired from gun slinging."
"Yes he did, he disappeared when he got married. He thought he had left all the fighting behind him."
"So what happened?" Bo asked.
"They killed his wife. A group of outlaws found out where he lived and came looking for him while he was away buying farming tools. When he got back home, he found his wife dead and his house burned. Fast Timothy Murdoch was not a person you want to anger. He killed twelve men by the time he ended his vengeance trail. Then he was truly a living legend, he was too famous to disappear anymore. So he just kept drifting, drifting and fighting, always living up to the name Fast Timothy Murdoch."
"Wait a minute," said Stanley Colbert when Ron stopped, "how do you know some much about Murdoch, have you met the man?"
Ron blinked. "Nah, but I've drifted from town to town myself, so I hear a lot."
"Bah," said Bo, "you've probably heard nothing but scuttlebutt; you wouldn't know Timothy Murdoch from Adam."
Ron nodded. "You're probably right."
"Here they come!" Billy shouted.
Everyone turned to see Chick and James step out of the house. Most of them rushed over to hear the news, Ron lagged behind. He was in no rush to hear what he already knew.
Draw, hammer, aim, squeeze, anticipate, hammer, aim, squeeze
XXXXXXXXXXX
Chick and James had decided the attack would be in two days. Chick and his men would gather all the ammunition they would need. All James and his cowhands had to do was meet up with them two days later.
They were riding home when James Possible rode up next to Ron. "Cooley, if you don't ride with us I won't hold it against you," James said to him suddenly.
"What?"
"You're a young man… you have so much to live for. A whole world to look forward too---"
"Billy isn't that much older than me," Ron interrupted.
"Billy has been with us for along time, you've only been with us a few weeks. It wouldn't be fair for me to ask you to risk your life."
"To be honest with you sir, I've thought about leaving. But if there is anything good about me, it's that I'm loyal."
"Please reconsider; you've no reason to fight for me."
"Actually…" Ron paused to think, "I do… have more than enough reasons to help. I am sorry sir, but you have my gun whether you want it or not."
"Just do one thing for me," Mr Possible said after a moment of silence. "Don't tell Kim about this."
"What… why?"
James chuckled. "If I know anything about that daughter of mine, she'd probably ride with us."
Ron smiled to himself. "You're probably right, you have my word, I won't say a thing."
"Thank you… you're a good man Ronald, the world needs more good men."
James gigged his horse forward until he was well ahead of his cowhands. Realizing that he wanted to be alone the group kept their distance, but they crowded around Ron.
"What did the boss have to say?" John asked.
"He's worried about me, since I haven't been here long. He thinks I have no reason to fight for the ranch."
John smiled. "That sounds like James alright, he's right though. You've no real obligation to us. If you were smart you'd be out of town by morning."
"If I was smart huh? I knew I should have stayed in school for a reason."
Bo laughed. "Tell you what Cooley, we're thinking about throwing a little fiesta in town tomorrow, me and the boys here will help you get your ashes hauled."
"What?"
"You know, warm your belly on a woman's back."
Once again they had managed to turn Ron's entire face beet red. "What are you saying?" he shouted back. "I can't do that!"
"Count me out fellas, Amelia's the only one for me."
"No one invited you anyhow," Stanly said before turning to Bo. "Now don't tease the boy, you know he has his sights set on the young lady Possible"
"Sigh, young love is so difficult. Then again, most things involving females are," John continued.
"It isn't like that!"
"Oh really, than what's the problem?" He winked at Bo. "You aren't the type of fella that likes fellas are you?"
"No! It's just that… you know… I kind of want… my first time… to be… special," he said sheepishly.
There was brief silence as the cowboys looked back and forth between each other, and then suddenly it came, a torrent of loud laughter.
"'I want my first time to be special,'" Kip repeated in a falsetto voice.
Bo and Stanly laughed so hard no one would have been surprised if they fell of their horses.
"Oh dear God," John wiped a tear from his eye, "that was rich."
"He was so serious too," Kip laughed.
Ron pushed his horse forward. "Don't be surprised if you idiots find beetles in your breakfast," he growled at them.
Bo slapped his knees. "Oh damn Cooley, you better survive this fight, life just wouldn't be as fun without you."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Virgil Duval wiped the sweat from his bruised face with his sleeve. "it's hotter than the devil's backside today."
Curly Thomas sighed. "Virgil, what are we doing out here?"
"What are we doing out he----" he smacked Curly with his hat. "Fool, don't you see my face, you think I would let something like this slide"
"But Louis told us not to bother the townsfolk anymore, if he finds out---"
"I don't care what Louis said, I have my pride as a man. I can't let something like this stand."
"Yeah, you got your plow cleaned right?" Cray Shaw laughed.
Virgil stared darkly Cray forcing him to shut up. "Just get that boy off the horse so I can talk to him."
Cray turned to a horse where an unconscious Josh Mankey lay face down on the saddle; He pulled him down off the saddle onto the floor.
"Wake him up," Virgil ordered, "but don't hit him in the face." He watched eagerly as Cray sent a well-placed kick into Josh's stomach.
Josh sputtered to life gasping for air. Virgil crouched next to him drew his pistol and placed it on Josh's temple.
"We're far enough from town where no one will hear a gun shot. Now tell me what I want to know"
"What do you want from me?"
Curly laughed. "Look at his hands shake. I bet if he tried to take a piss right now he'd hurt himself."
"People saw you acting real familiar with the 'stranger'. I was just wondering if you have any idea on who he is."
Josh gulped. "I don't know who the stranger is."
"Really?" Virgil cocked the hammer. "Are you sure?"
"I said I don't know!"
"You don't know?"
"I'm sorry but… I don't."
"Hurry about and shoot him Virgil, I'm liable to get heatstroke out here," whimpered Curly.
Virgil stood motionless for a moment than he stood up. "Alright boy, get up and ride out of here, my interest in you has fallen below the horizon."
Josh slowly stood up. "Really?"
"Yeah beat it, but if the Sheriff catches wind of this, the boys and I'll have to introduce ourselves to your family."
"You're not going to shoot me in the back, are you?"
"I said get the hell out of here."
Josh ran towards the horse that carried him here, mounted it and headed in the direction of the town.
"That boy is a terrible liar."
"What? Then why did you let him go?" Cray asked.
"He knows who the stranger is but he wasn't going to tell us."
"So what do we do?"
"You two are going to follow him. That boy will definitely try to warn the 'stranger' and I want to know who he talks to."
"Who made you the boss?" Cray asked.
"Yeah why should we do what you want?"
"Because I have seniority, now will you two stop bellyaching and get riding, he's getting away."
Cray and Curly grumbled to themselves as they mounted their horses.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Kim paced back and forth through the kitchen. "Alright, where's the cornmeal?"
"Honey," said Anne Possible, "what are you doing?"
"I'm baking a cake."
"A cake? But your father and the boys won't be back until late tonight."
She opened a canister and found that it was empty. "This is a practice cake mother. Tomorrow, I'll bake the real one tomorrow."
"What's tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow is Ron's birthday. He's been down about it for a few days so I thought this would cheer him up."
"Oh," Anne stated "Ohhhhh…"
Kim looked at he mother. "What's that's supposed to mean?"
"Nothing."
Kim opened another canister. "Mother, is this salt or sugar?"
Anne looked inside. "That's flour."
"What?" she tasted it. "You're right, why couldn't I tell the difference? I don't understand it...cooking doesn't look that hard when he does it."
"Kimmie, calm down"
"Wait, do we have any lard?"
"Uh Kim, I don't think you should put lard in a cake."
"Ok, what about cinnamon? Cinnamon is good, right?"
"Yes, I think cinnamon would do nicely."
Kim rushed to the cupboards in search of cinnamon.
Anne took a seat on a kitchen table. "You really like Ron, don't you?"
"Yeah he's a…" she paused as she searched for the right words, "Yes an odd stick, he's very different than anyone else around here."
"Different…interesting"
"Yeah, aside from how silly he acts most of the time, I notice something new about him almost every day, like the way he dresses himself."
"How so?"
"Well for one thing, most people when leaving the house, almost always put their hats on first. Ron puts his gunbelt and holster on first."
Anne was speechless.
"Looks like we're out of cinnamon, I'm going to town to get some more."
"Kim you don't have to rush---"
Kim was already out of the door before she could finish. She watched as Kim rode her horse towards the town. "Ah youth."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Sheriff Barkin adjusted his hat and approached Old man Lunsford's house. "Mighty hot today."
"Then why are you out here bothering me then?"
Barkin smiled. "We have some new proprietors coming to town. They're opening up a new saloon in town."
Lunsford's eyes lit up. "A new saloon? This is the first I've heard of it."
"What are you talking about, haven't you noticed that new building on the far side of town? It was built a month ago."
"Really?"
"Haven't you noticed the supplies that were being delivered to it for the past few weeks?"
"Can't say that I have"
"You probably haven't noticed because you're always roistered up."
"Now hold on Sheriff, don't belittle a man's hobbies. Why don't you have bend an elbow with me once in awhile. That'll change your tune."
"I'll have to pass; whiskey and the law just don't mix."
Lunsford looked around; he spoke when he thought it was safe. "Avery's boy have been a might skittish ever since Duval took that beating. They've been asking around about the stranger. Tch I don't know how Avery gets any work done, most of his boys spend all their time in town drinking."
"If you ask me, Duval got what he deserved."
Lunsford was surprised. "So you're not looking for the stranger?"
"Middlewood is constantly growing, and with this peg leg of mine it's getting harder and harder to keep order around here, so why would I be bothered by someone who's helping keep the peace. So far, the stranger is not really kicking up a row. As long as the stranger keeps it civil, I don't see the harm."
"If you're so fond of the stranger, why don't you deputize him?"
"Unfortunately old man there are some things this world just ain't ready for."
"Sounds like you know more than you're letting on Sheriff."
"The real problem around here," Barkin said changing the subject, "isn't the stranger. It's Avery's bunch that worries me. As long as Avery keeps them under control… things will be fine… but…"
"Morning Sheriff," Kim said as she rode into town.
"Laws, it's good to see you, Kimberly. How are the family?"
"They're fine, thanks for asking."
"Tarnations! Looks like we're being invaded," Lunsford exclaimed.
As many as six stagecoaches and ten riders entered the town from the north. Barkin waved them down and they came to a stop. One stagecoach stopped directly in front Lunsfords house. The stagecoach driver stepped down from his horse and opened the stagecoach door.
"I swear, I had no idea it could get this hot in Colorado." A young black woman in a petticoat wiped her face with a wet rag and stepped down out of the stagecoach. She giggled. "I was told by now Colorado would be colder than miners backside."
Barkin stepped forward. "Miss Alexander?"
Kim stepped off her horse. "Welcome to Middlewood Miss Alexander, I'm Kimberly Possible."
She looked at Kim. "Don't bother with the formalities hon, just call me Monique. Hmm, you're a pretty thing aren't you. If you ever need a job darling don't be afraid to ask."
"Huh?"
"Miss Alexander is opening a new saloon here in Middlewood."
"Not just a saloon sheriff," she said, "there will be poker tables, black jack tables, faro tables, pool tables, roulette, stage shows with singers and all the best acts in the old and new states. Folks will come from miles around to visit Monique's Club Banana Saloon. I daresay sheriff, you give me a few years, and Middlewood will be as big as Denver."
"I'm looking forward to it."
"What about the drinks?" Lunsford asked.
Monique flashed a confident smile. "The Club Banana Saloon will sell the most boss whiskey in the west."
"Oh thank the heavens."
Monique looked at Kim. "Honey, I must say, I love the dress."
"Really?" Kim looked down at her clothes. "I thought they were kind of ragged."
Monique shook her head. "Ragged? They look gorgeous on you dear, where did you get it?"
"The Rockwaller general store is also a millinery, they usually get shipments from Paris every few months or so."
"Please lead the way, I need to lose these sweaty clothes."
"Kim!"
"Honey, I think someone is calling for you."
Kim turned towards the sound of the voice to see Josh running towards her.
"Josh, what's wrong?"
Monique nudged her. "Hey now, if the rest of the men here are as good looking as him, then I know I'll like here."
"Kim we need to talk!" he said as he stopped to catch his breath, "but not here."
Kim could see the panic in his eyes she turned to Monique. "Excuse me but---"
"Don't worry, you go right ahead."
"Thank you," she said as Josh grabbed her by the arm and started to lead her away.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"Josh, I'm telling you I'm not the stranger, I don't know what you're talking about."
"Kim please, this is serious. When the stranger fought, he moved just like you did that night."
"Josh I'm sorry, but you're wrong."
"Kim, these men are dangerous, I thought they would kill me. If they even think you're the stranger they'll probably kill you. You have to get out of town---"
Josh stopped short when the doors of the livery barn flew open and Curly Thomas and Cray Shaw swaggered in.
"Well now, what do we have here?" Cray smiled.
Curly laughed. "Yea, is this a private honeymoon or can anyone else join?"
"We were just leaving." This time Kim grabbed Josh by the hand and led him towards the door.
Cray stepped forward to cut her off. He put his hand on her shoulder. "Lord honey, you don't have to run so soon. I won't eat ya… but I'd like to…"
Kim snatched Cray's hand off her shoulder and gave it a twist. "I'm flattered but vagrants aren't my type."
Cray winced from the pain and pulled his arm away. "Why you…"
"What's going on in here?" asked the barn owner as he stepped into sight.
"Nothing, we just having a chat," Curly called out to him.
"Actually, we were just leaving." She pushed past Curly and Cray with Josh following closely behind her.
"Damn that gal is full of nothing but venom," Cray muttered as he massaged his hand.
Curly ran his fingers across his beard. "You don't reckon that…"
"Naw," Cray said, "it couldn't be, the strangers a man right?"
"I reckon he is. Still, should we bring it up to Virgil."
"If you want to tell Virgil Duval that you think he got the daylight beaten out of him by a woman, then you can go right ahead. But I prefer my head lead-free."
"Yeah, you're right, let's get out of here."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"Kim, I haven't seen you for a long spell," Wade said as they sat in a corner table at Middlewood's only restaurant.
"I've been a little busy."
"Hanging out with your drifter friend?"
Kim cocked an eyebrow. "That's part of it… is that a problem?"
"No, no problem, I like the guy, he's a goofy sort of fellow."
"Wade, I'd like to thank you for sneaking El Diablo back to the ranch."
"What are friends for?"
She lowered her voice. "I'm of the opinion that the stranger might be making another appearance."
"What, today?"
"No, not today, but soon, when they least expect it."
"That's good because I need some time to slip some extra horses into town for the stranger to 'steal'."
"Thanks again Wade, I don't know what I'd do without you."
"You'd probably be bored."
XXXXXXXXXXXXX
Later that night
Hours after the sun had gone down, Ron sat alone in the glow of the lamplight and he took his Colts apart. He cleaned every moving piece, wiping each part with a soft white cloth before reassembling each weapon. After reassembling the weapon, he placed the gun next to his ear and turned the cylinder slowly, listening to the soft click of metal on metal.
With that done, he examined each new cartridge he had purchased and loaded them into the pistol. He stood up placed the guns back into holster and he drew.
"Look out pard you're covered," he said to his horse.
The horse looked up at him for a moment and grunted.
"Ow," Ron grabbed his chest in mock pain, "you got me pard. Who would've thunk a horse would be the fastest gun in the west."
He stopped when he realized the horse wasn't paying attention. "Aww, you're no fun tonight."
He grabbed the lamp. "Good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night...how's that go...oh yeah...that I shall say good night til it be morrow...that means "night, pard" in Shake a spear talk" he said to the horse before walking out of the barn.
A moment later, he was climbing into bed in the bunkhouse when someone whispered his name in the darkness.
"Ron, is that you?"
"Billy, you're still up?"
"Yeah it's me… I just can't get to sleep. I'm too worried about the fight…" he paused. "What about you?"
"I never go near big rocks cuz there might be mountain lions hiding behind them. I'm always worried about riding my horse too fast, in case he runs into a snake and bucks me off. When I heard about a gent in England who died when a stone of fire fell from the sky and hit his house, I spent a month looking up at the sky every minute or so. I've never slept peacefully on the ground. Not because its uncomfortable and cold as hell, but I'm afraid a scorpion might crawl into my ear. So I reckon you could say that I'm always worried," Ron answered.
"So how do you get rid of the fear?"
"You don't get rid of it… you just deal with it."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Sheriff Ken Towers grunted as he took a swig from his flask. The bottom half of his face was hidden under the shadow of his flat brim hat "Son, if you talk to me like that again, you'll find yourself bucking the devils horse before you know it."
The young messenger began to shake under the imposing gaze of the legendary lawman. "I'm sorry sir, I had to ride my fastest horse half to death to get he---"
Towers put his feet up on his desk, ran his finger across his modest handlebar mustache. "That outlaw dog Payton Dawson sure has a lot of sand in his craw, to come at me like this."
"I'm sorry sir, but this is what I've been told. The group is likely headed out of Texas and since Cryer Creek is on the border of Texas and The Oklahoma territory…"
"I know where my town is son."
"Of course you do, its just we reckon that they'll pass through here…"
Ken jerked the Remington out of his belt and cocked it. "Get the hell out."
"What?"
"And if I see or hear that you're still in town, I'll take it that you're calling me out into the street."
Not needing to be told the twice, the messenger quickly ran for the door.
Towers placed his Remington on the desk, took another gulp from his flask and emptied it. Through the redness of his eyes, he saw the silent figure of Barney Director standing near the door.
"Director you idealistic bastard, I warned you. I told you not to trifle with Coover and Dawson."
The figure stood silent.
"But you wouldn't listen. You had to be the perfect officer didn't you. You had the nerve to think you could save the world on your own and now look at you."
He threw the glass against the door with all the strength he could muster.
"You can't win em all Director. I tried to tell you that but you wouldn't listen. Sometimes you have to just let things be, ya damned fool!"
He watched the figure dissipate before his eyes.
"I hope to god your boy has more sense than you do."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"I'm afraid it's true. Bad smash, you just missed being club-footed."
It was a freak accident, the horse was sick and it collapsed on top of him. Some say he was lucky to have survived. He didn't see it that way.
For the second time in his life Felix felt helpless. From the second floor window of his hotel, Felix Renton watched as his friend squared off in the middle of the stree. The clouds were slate gray in the night sky, rain was coming.
"Goose is dead he gave you up before he died." Ron said through the bandanna that covered his face up to his eyes
"Doesn't surprise. Goose was the redemption seeking type" Shem offered a weak smile.
Ron didn't make a move as he stared Shem down, the gun game wasn't only about speed and accuracy, there was a mental aspect to it. Everyone knew a scared man couldn't shoot straight.
"Let's get to it," Shem said as lightning streaked across the sky. "Start counting."
"One…"
"Two…"
"Three--"
Shem attempted to draw to no avail. He saw Colt come up from Ron's holster, a mix of metal and gleaming moonlight; then he saw the explosion from the gun barrel and he felt the impact of the bullet raise him up and backwards.
"Dammit boy so fast. You much come straight outta hell." She said his lips bloody with a pink ooze. "I'm sorry kid"
"What?" Ron said incredulously.
"You don't have to forgive me. I just needed to say it."
Ron swallowed the lump in his throat "You got kin I should notify?"
"That's right decent of you. More than I deserve I suppose. However I burnt all them bridges long ago" Shem took in a ragged breath. Then he shuddered, closed his eyes and dies without saying under word
Ron took one step forward. He took another step before he lost it and threw up. "Dammit Murdoch, I thought you said it would get easier." He heaved again.
He wiped the morning's breakfast from his mouth with one sleeve, and his tears with the other. He glanced at the body once and shuffled past it. He staggered across the boardwalk when he heard the sound of shuffling feet, then the faint click of hammer being cocked. He turned quickly recognizing a threat immediately.
His Colt came up from the holster so fast; it startled Felix, even though he had Ron in his sights.
Two shots fired, the first shot whizzed past Ron's head knocking his hat off. The second shot smacked into Felix's shoulder knocking him back into the dirt street.
Felix groaned and rolled in the dirt.
"Who are you?" Ron said as he cocked his pistol again, letting Felix hear it.
"You… killed Shem… you" he coughed "… you killed him!"
Ron turned back to Shem's body. "I reckon you don't want to hear what your friend did."
Felix reached for the Navy Colt he was carrying, but Ron kicked the gun away.
"Sorry, I can't get give you second chance…"
Felix rolled onto his stomach. "I'm sorry Shem… if it wasn't for my damn leg… I'm useless."
If one was to survive as a gunmen for long, one would learn quickly that it was unwise to leave anyone alive who could come back after you thirsty for vengenace. Ron aimed the Colt at Felix's head, but held the pose for a minute or so.
Suddenly from the darkness, Seth Beechum appeared with two horses. "What's taking so long?"
"You better kill me," Felix gasped. "If you don't, I swear I'll hunt you down like a dog."
Ron didn't move.
"What are you waiting for?"
Ron looked into Felix's face. "Because he was a killer, I killed Shem, because I killed Shem. You want to kill me; I'm wondering when will it end?" He holstered his Colt after another pause.
"What are you doing?" Felix shouted when Ron made a move to leave. He grabbed him by the foot. "I don't cotton to charity damn it! Why won't you shoot, because I'm a cripple?"
Ron pulled his foot away. "Why would I want to waste a bullet on a back shooting coward like you?" Even in the darkness, he could see the shock on Felix's face.
Seth and Ron mounted their horses. "So Scarecrow, are we leaving now?"
"First I reckon we have to wake up the town doctor." He turned to Felix and pulled off his bandanna, revealing his face. "When you're ready to come at me face to face, than come and find me. I'll be waiting."
XXXX
Present day
"Yes, we've seen him," the bartender said to Felix. "He rode through here not to long ago… but…" the bartender turned to his young waitress, "he's a good man, he saved Molly here. I'm obliged to that man."
Felix smiled. "So I reckon you won't tell me where he went than?" He nodded. "I guess I can respect that." Felix tipped his hat to them both.
"Hold on," Molly said to him, "he's not a criminal, he's a hero… whatever he's done before I don't care… he saved my life."
Felix nodded again. "I've been on this man's trail for awhile now, and that's not the first time I've heard he was a hero."
"So why are you still chasing after him?" Molly said.
"General Sherman was a hero to the Yanks, but ask those living in the Georgia and they'll tell you he's a monster." Felix left two coins on the bar counter to pay for his drinks.
Scarecrow's name was spreading from town to town. He was becoming more and more famous as his story continued to be told and exaggerated upon. He had managed to elude infamy so far, but he could not run from his name forever.
One day, everyone would know his name, and then it would be impossible to disappear. And that day was coming soon, Felix could feel it.
He had a smile on his face when he walked through the batwings onto the boardwalk, only to be met by two men on the street, one with a rifle, the other with a shotgun.
"What going on here fellas?" Felix stated.
"We heard there was a famous bounty hunter in town, so we assumed he was after us."
"But I never thunk we'd be looking at a little lame fellar. Who ever heard of a crippled bounty hunter?"
Felix shook his head. "Have you heard never to judge a man by his looks."
Molly dropped a glass onto the floor when she heard the two shots coming from outside. Then she and the bartender rushed towards the door. Just in time to see Felix put his gun away.
"What happened?" Molloy cried when she saw the two bodies lying in the streets.
"Self-defense… they underestimated me… but then again, I've yet to meet a outlaw who didn't."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
The next day
Come to the Club Banana Saloon
Ron read the letter again and chuckled to himself. "Her handwriting is dreadfully pretty."
It was only a single sentence, but it had been written beautifully. In contrast, his own writing was often compared to chicken scratch.
He was standing outside of Doctor White's office after another checkup on his wrist. He looked up at the sky; the sun was at its zenith.
"Hey, you shouldn't sneak up on people like that, you might get yourself shot… by accident," Ron said to no one in particular.
Lin Norris appeared from the shadows of an alleyway and stepped onto the boardwalk. "Got some trouble with you hand there Scarecrow?"
"Naw," Ron grinned, "doc says I'm in apple pie order."
"Good, because Louis requires your presence right now"
"Hmmm… and what if I say no?"
"Then I'm going to have to bulldoze you over to the meeting."
Ron ran his hands across the back of his head. "I'm really down on being bulldozed. Lead the way amigo."
Ten minutes later, Ron found himself in the sunset saloon, sitting across the table from Louis Wilson as he dealt him a hand of cards.
"Well now Cooley, how come you never come over and bend an elbow with me and the boys? The way you act, you make a fella start thinking he smells bad."
Ron collected his cards. "I tend to keep to myself."
Louis glanced at Lin Norris and Willie Caldwell, who sat in a circle around them. "You hear that boys, he tends to keep to himself."
They laughed.
Louis turned back to Ron. "My brother is real anxious to fight, he's been practicing day and night on his draw."
"Bully for him." Ron looked at his cards and sighed disappointingly. "I really hope he gets good."
"I was thinking it would be a real shame if my brother killed you---"
Ron slapped himself in the forehead. "Goodness, I was just thinking the same. Isn't that the damndest thing?"
"Me and the boys are tired of rustling. We're thinking of something of the more exciting variety."
"You're going to be blacksmiths?"
"No," Louis said, visibly annoyed. "Bank robbing...and any good gang should have more than one gunslinger riding with them."
Bank robbing? He has no idea that his gang's days were numbered.
"Too bad Middlewood has no other gunmen, but uh, maybe you could try Dodge City."
"I'm offering you the chance of a lifetime. With a famous gunmen like yourself riding along side us we can really raise some hell."
"All that soft solder won't get you anywhere, I'm not that famous. Besides what would your brother think?"
"My brother thinks what I want him to think."
"What a loving relationship." Ron made a move to get up. "I'll have to pass."
Lin Norris got up and pushed Ron down back in his seat.
"What's the problem here Cooley? You were once an outlaw right? Bank robbing should be right up your alley. Think of the fun, think of the adventure. You can't possibly want to stay in this pit-stain town."
"Actually, I don't think it's that bad here."
"Oh, I get what this is about, you've fallen ass over elbows for the red headed gal. You are really wanting to keep her, huh?"
Ron chuckled. "Wanting to keep her, you make her sound like a horse."
Louis shook his head. "She ain't your kind, she ain't our kind."
Ron narrowed his eyes. "And what's our kind?"
Louis's eyes dropped back to his cards. "I hope you reconsider before its too late Cooley, my brother is a crack shot. Ace-high flush, read em and weep."
"The thing about being a crack shot is that it don't mean a thing if you're not fast enough to clear leather before the man before you does." Ron spread his cards on the table. "Full house. I win."
He got up and tipped his hat. "Sorry boys, but I've got to be going."
"Hold on Cooley, what if the girl wasn't around any more? Would you have any reason to stay?"
Ron froze. "What? Kim… the Possible's have nothing to do with this."
There was no reason for him to be angry. Tomorrow Louis and his gang would pay for their crimes. There was no reason to add fuel to the fire now.
"Don't they now… I think they do. For one thing, they're getting in the way of our business transaction." He licked his lips. "But now that I think about, I wouldn't want to leave town either. Well, not before taking the red head for a ride in the hayloft."
Ron closed his eyes…
"Supposing I say after I did that, I make the Possible's disappear. Now you wouldn't have any reason to stay right?"
Ron bristled and opened his eyes. "If it ever came to that than I reckon I'll die in this town." He let his eyes trail over the three men. "But I won't be going alone."
"You'll what?" Lin Norris jumped out of his seat. "No one refuses an offer from Louis Wilson…" he reached for his gun, "…I have half a mind to--- "
Lin stopped when he caught a look at Ron's eyes, eyes that had lost all expression. The look unnerved the outlaw to the point that he felt frozen on the spot.
"Just you wait," Lin stammered, "your time will come, Dub will see to that."
Ron watched Lin's hands raise away from his holster, and he deftly uncocked the hammer of his colt that he unknowingly raised an inch out his holster.
"Sit down Lin." Louis placed his hands under his chin. "You see that Cooley, you're ready to kill and die at a drop of a hat, that's what makes you different from a normal citizen. Different from everyone in the Possible clan. We live by a different set of rules, that's what makes us different."
"I'm sorry about that fellas, that's why I don't gamble. Often it gets my blood excited. Good talking to you." Ron turned and quickly rushed for the exit.
Louis grinned. "What happened Lin? He beat you without firing a shot."
"Lord Jesus, I looked into his eyes and it was like I was already dead."
"Dub has a right to be excited, that man is a Simon pure gunman."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
The Club Banana Saloon was a two-story building. Both floors were well lighted, and there was a bar along one whole side of the room. A roulette wheel, pool tables, and dozens of tables covered with green felt for poker and black jack occupied the rest of the room. And a fiddle band strung out a tune on the stage.
I wonder what is keeping Ron? Kim thought, as she watched her father's employees enjoy themselves with gambling, among other things. Upon hearing it was Ron's birthday, they had decided on their own that this was the place to celebrate. They seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely, even though the guest of honor was nowhere to be seen.
Kim glanced at the woman dressed in flowing gowns carrying drinks to tables. "These waitresses are a little under dressed, don't you think?" she said to Monique.
Monique wiped down a shot glass with a cotton cloth. "Let me tell you a little something sweetie, these girls help take a man's mind off how much he losses at the tables… or how much he's about to lose anyway."
"Isn't that a little unethical?"
"Unethical, or good business, it could go either way in my book."
"Monique you're not much older than me, how did you get the money for this place?"
"Jonathan Wright, the wealthiest man in Tennessee. My family 'served' his family for years and all it took was for my daddy to save his daughter for us to get a reward for our years of 'good service'. But I had my fill of the Old States, so I got my pa to lend my some money and here I am," She spread her arms wide, "the owner of a grand saloon."
"It's a beautiful place," Kim said before glancing back at the door and sighing.
"Are you waiting for someone, maybe that handsome boy you were with earlier?"
"No, I'm waiting for a friend of mine today is his birthday."
Ron entered the saloon to the cheers of his bunkmates. "Hey what's going on here?"
"Well hello birthday boy." A young woman strutted up to Ron until her body was just inches away from his.
"Ah, hello ma'am, uh… how did you know it was my birthday?"
"Your friends over there told me." She jerked her head in the direction of Bo and Stanley on the far side of the room. They waved happily at him.
'Guess what cowboy," she whispered into his ears, "while you're friend are at the table, I can show you good times."
"Oh sure who wouldn't like a good… ohhh…" he gulped. "You mean a good… good time… I…I'm sorry I can't."
Kim stared at darkly from the bar. "Who is that? Ron! Over here!"
Ron looked over at her. "I'm flattered ma'am but I've got to run."
"Hold on," drawled the woman as she cut his escapee off, "let me tell you what a good time consists of." She began to again whisper into his ear.
"Oh my goodness" Ron gasped
Kim became increasingly agitated. "I spend all day baking for him and he shows up late and now..."
Monique laughed as she wiped down another glass. "I'm no relative of yours or even a particular close friend, but I'd like to say you sound mightily jealous right now." She waited for a response from Kim but when she looked up Kim was already walking swiftly towards Ron.
Ron let a breath. "That really does sound like a good time, but I… don't think… I'm ready for that kind of advanced riding."
"Ahem."
Ron almost jumped out of his skin. "Oh Kim, uh… this um…"
"Claire Annette."
"Claire Annette, she's a friend of Bo and Stanley."
"I'm sure she is," Kim said before pulling Ron away.
"So long sweetie, come back and visit me anytime," Claire Annette called out.
"Uh…" Ron began to say something else, but he stopped himself when Kim gave him a look that would stop a bullet.
"So this is the birthday boy," Monique said when Kim returned with Ron at the end of her arm. "Howdy, I'm Monique Alexander, I superintend this saloon."
"Nice to meet you ma'am" He shook her hand. "Now doesn't this take the rag of the bush, is this fandango just for me?"
"Well that's how it started," Kim said as she watched the other cowhands enjoy themselves a little too much. "But it looks like they've already forgotten you're in the room, but they're still having a hog killing good time"
Monique reached and placed a large plate with an ugly, lumpy, yellow cake like mess on the bar. "Happy birthday"
"What is it?"
"It's a cake I think," Monique replied. "Kimberly made it."
"You made this… uh cake KP?"
It didn't look this bad at home. "You know what, let's forget about the cake," she said as she started pulling the cake away. "It didn't turn out the way I want it."
'Now hold on it… looks… ok." He took a piece of the cake and brought it to his lips. What am I doing, this can't possibly be good… oh well I've taken a bullet before… He closed his eyes and tossed the piece into his mouth.
Monique and Kim watched him chew once, twice, three times and then he swallowed. "I can't believe it. It's delicious."
"Really?" Monique and Kim cried out in unison.
"Yeah, its great!" He took another piece. "It tastes much better than it looks, thank you."
"You're welcome," Kim replied with tingling cheeks.
"Excuse me folks, I'm going to check on the inventory," Monique said with a smile before walking off.
Kim cleared her throat. "So where have you been? I was waiting forever."
Ron continued eating. "I was just thinking… I think I'm ready."
"Ready for what?"
He turned to her. "Why I don't celebrate my birthday anymore."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Ten years ago
In the small, schoolhouse less than half a mile from the town of Beavers Pass, the school master hushed the excited children down. With all the children settled would continue.
A hand shot up. "Teacher, Ronald is sleeping again."
The teacher turned to the sleeping boy in the corner of the room. "Ronald!"
"Ah Spiders!" He woke with a start. "Get them off me!" His outburst caused the other children to burst out laughing.
"Kind of you to join us Mister Stoppable. Unfortunately, class is done for the day." He turned his attention to the other children. "Everybody pay attention," he said raising his voice, "we're going to venture to town, and we will do so in single file."
Veronica took her place in the line in front of her brother. "Mom is going to throw a fit when she hears you fell asleep again."
"She won't have a fit if you hobble your lip about it."
"Maybe I won't say anything if you let me wear that necklace."
"What?" His hands instinctively went to the necklace. "That's paying through the nose!"
"Come on, you wear it all the time. I just want to wear it once, just for today."
"No, this is my good luck charm."
"Please," she pleaded, "are you saying your sister can't have any good luck?" she asked with a hint of sadness in her voice. "Just one day?"
It didn't take long for him to give in. "Okay, but remember to give it back at the end of the day." He reached for his arrowhead necklace.
"Come on, pony up," she said excitedly. She snatched the necklace out of his hand and threw it over her neck.
"Stop it Frank!"
They turned towards the commotion; a thin boy used his finger as a pistol barrel and poked another child in the ribs.
"I said stop it," the child hissed.
"Awww you're no fun, pow, pow, pow" Frank fired at a few more of his classmates with his imaginary gun. "You're scared of this and it's not even a real gun. What if wild red Indians come to kill everyone?"
"If any Indians come by, Sheriff Nell will take care of them. When he was a bounty hunter, his name was Nelly the Wolf."
All the children nodded in agreement. "The Wolf', that's a powerfully strong name… my handle is going to be Frankie the Scorpion."
"I'm Jimmy the Coyote," another child stated.
"Eagle Eye Johnny"
"Ron the Ferret!"
The boys stared at Ron in disbelief.
Frank laughed. "The ferret, that's powerfully weak."
"Yea, your name is supposed to scare people, like a bear or a mountain lion, somethin scary."
"Something scary? How about a scarecrow?"
The boys laughed again "There aint' nothing scary about a scarecrow"
"I think you're wrong," Ron countered as he jutted out his chin, "lots of people are scared of scarecrows."
Veronica nodded. "Yeah, Ron saw a scarecrow once and it scared him so bad he didn't sleep for a week."
They laughed again.
Ron rushed at his sister. "That's it, give my back my necklace."
She broke away from him. "But you just gave it to me."
"That's before you started making me look like a fool!"
XXXXXXXX
"Is that shotgun still beneath the bar?" Wilkes Summers said to Elliot Stoppable.
"Yeah, hopefully we won't need to use it." They both stared at the man hunched over at the bar nursing his drink.
"You know who that is," Wilkes said, "that's THE Goose Belllounds. I heard he rides with the Rooster Coover gang. What are we going to do?"
Elliot kept a cautious gaze on the outlaw. He wore a rain slicker, even though it wasn't raining. "Nothing is what we do. He's just going to have a drink, so we treat him like any other customer."
Elliot walked to the stranger and filled his shot glass.
"Obliged," said the gloomy outlaw. He was older looking, with a scar running through his chin whiskers, partially covered by a faded bandana. His wide brimmed sombrero hung behind him on a leather strip.
"Pa" Elliot Stoppable's eyes fell on the door as his daughter ran through the bat wing doors.
"Ron is trying to hurt me," she cried and ran behind her father.
"Ron, leave your sister alone."
"But… but…" Ron stopped and looked around his shoulder, he could swear someone was watching him.
Suddenly Sheriff Nell stomped into the saloon. "Goose Bellounds, I told you five years ago to stay out of my town. What are you doing back here?"
Goose brought the glass to his lips. "I thought it would be fine Sheriff, since I'm here alone. There's no trouble, I'm just spending one night, is that so wrong?"
Sheriff Nell looked Goose up and down. He didn't want to admit but he was afraid to push Goose too far. Goose had a reputation for being a fast draw, the prospect of a gunfight with Goose was not very appealing. However, Goose had seemed civil so far. "Just one night, huh?"
"Ah I reckon one night won't hurt none, but that's your last drink. You stay away from the saloons, and I want you out by first light"
Goose finished his drink, wordlessly stood up. "Obliged Sheriff," he drawled, before walking out of the saloon. The sheriff followed him out.
Ron noticed that immediately the atmosphere in the room lightened. "Pa, who was that man?"
"That man son, is a killer."
XXXXXX
Ron watched as Veronica walked out the door but not before sticking her tongue out at him. Just you wait He turned his attention back to his father.
Elliot Stoppable removed a handful of bills from his pocket, and placed it into a pine box. He smiled when he realized he was one step closer to his goal of owning his own ranch.
"Thinking about the ranch again?" Ron said to father.
Elliot ran his hand through his hair and he blushed. "You got me son. Maybe I should have my mind on your birthday tomorrow?
Ron smiled "it's ok….I know how badly you want us to live in Middlewood"
"Well, it doesn't have to be Middlewood son. It sounds like a wonderful place, but I reckon we may not be able to afford to get to Colorado." He ran his hand through Ron's hair. "It may not be as great as Middlewood, but we'll find a good spot."
Elliot reached into his pocket, a gesture that usually meant Ron was going to get a piece of candy. But all he got was a disappointed look.
"Sorry son, I was working in the barn the other day and I must have dropped it. I'll get you another piece later."
Ron's shoulders slumped. "Alright"
"Come on son, cut a swell, maybe I can convince your mother to let you and your sister off school tomorrow."
XXXXXXXXX
Yes, he would get some candy later, but if he found the candy his father had lost now, then he would have two pieces of candy. It was the perfect plan.
He opened the barn door and closed the door behind him. Now, what piece of hay should I check under first?
"Who's that?"
Ron froze he heard a rustling sounding sound in the stall at the other end of the room. "Who's there?"
Goose grunted as he stood up. He plucked a piece of hay from his hair. "Hmmm, I thought you were that blasted Sheriff again."
"I… I… don't want any trouble from you." Ron stammered remembering what his father had told a rowdy drunk a few days back.
A grin to came to Goose's face. "That's a good bluff son, too bad your knees are shaking so bad. I almost believed you were a tough hombre."
Ron looked own at his legs they were indeed shaking. He tried to stop them but it took enough energy just to keep from wetting himself. This man was downright scary, he gave off an entirely different feeling than his father or any of the other men in town.
"Come here son," Goose beckoned.
Ron gasped, should he run? Should he scream? He was too scared to do either.
"What's wrong? Do I scare you?"
"My pa says you're a killer!"
Goose chuckled. "So you think I'm evil?"
"People who kill are evil."
"If you're not coming to me, I'll come to you." Before Ron could realize it, Goose was already upon him. He grabbed Ron by the shoulders and looked into his face. They stood there in the barn alone for what seemed like an eternity. At one point, Ron could swear the outlaw was about to tear up.
Suddenly he pushed Ron away. "Sorry about that son, you just remind me of something that was taken from me a long time ago. Go back to your family boy."
He pointed to the door, but Ron was still to frightened to move.
"I said Git!" Goose shouted.
With a surge of energy, Ron ran towards the exit. He had one foot out the door when he turned. He was terribly frightened of the man but there was one thing his young mind had to know.
"Um… why…"
"If you want to say something boy, just spit it out, real men don't mumble!"
"Why do you kill people?" he said quickly.
Goose was taken aback by the abruptness of the question. The child's question had him speechless "I had a good answer to that question once. But now… now I just want to go home."
"Go home?"
"Yes home, in a blaze of glory, that's the only path for me." He shuffled back to the stall he had emerged from and plopped himself down on a pile of hay.
Ron turned away and ran home.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Early next morning
Nell's big Colt boomed as he began falling downward. His bullet scattered dust at Goose's feet. He fell loosely as his body hit the ground with a loud thud.
"Looks like you weren't the one, Sheriff," Goose said grimly.
XXXX
"Ma's at the store and we need a little more to buy my---," Ron began when the sound of gunfire coming from the streets.
"What was that?"
Wilkes turned to Elliot. "I've no idea"
XXXX
On a nearby hill, just outside of town, Rooster Coover waited.
He had just gotten the signal and he was mentally preparing himself for the plunder.
"Looks like ol Goose is giving us the okay."
He turned to his freshly recruited gang. "Alright boys, this our first job. If we do this right, our names will be feared throughout the country-side."
He brought his attention back to the town. "Look at this boys" He pointed to a sign posted at the entrance.
The carrying of firearms is prohibited in town limits.
Rooster roared with laughter. "Now that is a fine civilized law, it makes a man feel safe." He batted his heels into his hose's side.
XXXXX
"Ma, did you hear that, it sounded like shooting," Veronica cried, as they stepped out of the general store.
"Yes, it was gunfire," said the schoolmaster, as he crossed the street to approach them. "Someone should inform the sheriff." Then the heard the roar of thunder, but there wasn't a cloud in the sky.
"What's going on here--" He stopped at the sound of the rifle fire.
Veronica screeched as her teacher's chest turned red and a spray of blood spattered across the store window.
XXXXX
Raising his pistol, Rooster leveled it at the first person he saw on the boardwalk and shot him in dead in the street.
There was a second of ominous silence as the town stood froze in time. Then the shriek of a young girl rose above the sound s of pistol and rifle fire. The townspeople leaped for cover as the eight riders bore down on the town.
Rooster grinned. How's this for an impact Tobias and I'm doing it all on my own.
XXXXX
As rifle fire screeched all around them, Barbara Stoppable leaped onto her daughter as she screamed at the top of her lungs.
"Shhh just lie still sweetie," she said to her daughter.
"But the schoolmaster… he's dead ma, he's dead!" That's when she noticed that her mother's face was contorted in pain .
"Ma what's wrong?"
"Shhh baby just lie still."
"Ma!" she then spotted the spot of blood on her mother's clothing that was growing by the second.
"Ma!"
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Rooster laughed as he gunned down an elderly couple crossing the street. A man stepped into the street with his hand at his hip but a rifle shot cut him down.
"That's it boys, that's how you earn your keep," he said to no one in particular. "Alright boys, tree the whole damn town!" He gigged his horse towards the boardwalk.
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Elliot Stoppable grabbed his son. "Come on boy."
"Wait, what's happening?" Ron cried out. He turned to see Wiles lifting a trapdoor to a small cellar.
"What's happening," Ron repeated through tears.
Elliot Stoppable pushed his son into the cellar. "Don't open this door unless its for someone you know well. Okay?"
"Okay," Ron repeated, but he still didn't a full grasp of the situation.
"Wilkes, give me your pistol."
Wilkes handed Elliot a small derringer. "You remember when I taught you how to shoot?"
Ron nodded, as tears streamed down his face. "Pa, why do I need this, I'm not old enough to use a gun?"
Elliot smiled. "And hopefully you'll never have to use it. When this door closes, I want you to be quiet as a mouse. Can you do that for me?"
"Yes Pa."
"I'll be back for you soon son… I love you Ronald," he said quickly, before shutting the trap door, leaving Ron in complete darkness.
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Rooster strolled around the town, enjoying the scene. The barber was being pistol whipped in the barbershop. The body of the general store owner came flying through a glass window. The restaurant was currently on fire.
"I should have done this sooner."
He saw Wilkes step out of the saloon rifle in hand, only to be brought down by the twin blast of a shotgun carried by Rooster's second in command.
His second charged into the salon and there was an exchange of gunfire. Rooster angled towards the saloon. He stepped inches from the bat wing doors to see his second lying dead on the floor.
Then he noticed a fumbling Elliot Stoppable attempting to reload his shotgun. Rooster stepped through the door, his fingertips inches from his holster.
Elliot loaded a fresh round and looked up, Rooster smiled at him. "Howdy stranger" He brought his attention to his hip. "Draw."
Elliot attempted to level the shotgun. He never saw Rooster draw, but he felt the slug that ripped through his chest and knocked him backward.
Rooster walked slowly toward Elliot's still convulsing body. "Too slow, my amigo."
He stroked his trigger and fired at Elliot's body again until it stopped moving completely. "Do you know how much money I had to pay that man to join my gang?"
He spotted the small pine box on the bar counter. "I'll take this as reparations."
XXXXXX
Ron cowered in the darkness. That gunfire sounded awfully close. "Pa?" he whimpered to himself.
Derringer in hand he lifted the trapdoor slightly. "Pa?"
He clambered out of the cellar only to find his father lying motionless on the floor. "Pa? Please wake up, please wake up, Pa!"
Ron shook his father's body. "Pa? Please Pa, please wake up!"
"You best give in son, he's dead."
Ron turned towards the sound of the voice.
"He's dead," Goose repeated.
Ron aimed the derringer at Goose. "No he's not, he's not dead! Stop lying!"
"If you're going to point a gun at a man, you better be ready to squeeze the trigger."
Ron's hand shook as he aimed the weapon. "No, he's not dead," he sobbed. Eventually he lowered the derringer, fell to his knees and began to weep.
Goose slowly strolled over to Ron. "Are you going to kill me?" Ron cried.
Goose took a deep breath and looked Ron in the eye. "When you're ready, come and find me. I'll be waiting." He struck Ron across his head with a balled up fist, knocking him off.
As Rooster lined up all the men in the town, the outlaw named Goose could be seen on the outskirts of the town, strapping a young boy face down onto a horse. "Survive, and then come find me." He smacked the horse on the back and watched it ride towards the horizon.
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Ron munched on a piece of cake. "I was found by--- a man who happened to be passing by and he raised me for a few years. Rooster burned the whole town down. The maniac did not leave anyone alive. When I returned a few years later, there was nothing there but tombstones."
"That's awful!" Suddenly Ron looked older. Something she saw in his hazel eyes hurt her deeply.
Her tone, and the tenderness with which she placed a hand on his stirred an emotion in Ron that he wasn't ready for. He pulled his hand away. "Excuse for a moment."
He got from the bar and left her alone, going over Ron's story in her mind. There was so much more she wanted to ask him about his life, but she didn't want to push him. She had the feeling if she waited; he would eventually open up to her.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Ron leaned against the door of the saloon and looked up at the stars. The town was cast in twilight, the wind was still, and the clouds remained motionless. He shut his eyes.
"You must be a double-dyed fool to be falling in love."
It was the voice of Timothy Murdoch. Ron heard the familiar clink of ice rolling in a shot glass
"It's not like that," Ron replied.
"Uh-huh… so you got yourself a fight tomorrow."
"Yes, I have to protect Mister Possible."
"Doing so will add to your legend. Every itchy fingered deadbeat in this town who wants to make a name for himself will be gunning for you."
"I'm not worried about that… I just don't want them to see… I don't want Louis Wilson to be right."
"You knew the consequences when you walked down this path. You can't blame people who don't want to socialize with a killer."
Ron winced; Murdoch never did know how to pull punches.
"You can't begin to regret your actions now."
"Can I regret not regretting my actions? I reckon that doesn't make sense." He looked down at his right hand. "Right now, I'm Ron. Tomorrow, I have to be Scarecrow to protect Mister P----"
"We be who we have to be."
"---but is there really a difference between the two? Scarecrow...'What is in a name? Whatever name we may call a rose by it would smell as sweet...wow that Shake a spear is some powerful stuff."
"Asking 'is there really a difference' that's the same as me asking myself 'am I evil'? If I knew the answers to that I wouldn't need a glass of the oh-be-joyful every morning."
Ron remained silent for a moment. "I can't stay here any longer… they wouldn't understand…" He chuckled to himself. "I know where I've been, but now where am I headed?"
Murdoch said nothing.
"Do you think if everything was different… would she-----" He stopped and looked around. He realized he was alone and the streets were empty.
"Murdoch, you never did have an answer to the really important questions."
A/N Ok first Felix and Monique, I thought long and hard how to introduce these characters. I think I may have done them a certain justice, but its up to you tell me if you like them or hate them. Felix is going to be a big piece of the story later so I hope you dig them.
The story of Ron tracking down most of the outlaws will probably be told through separate one shots. Felix's storyline and his hunt for Scarecrow will also be fleshed out a bit.
Second: Name Ron's horse contest "I don't want to use Rufus (Zaratan has covered that base in his story Impossible Love) so suggest a name for the horse, and it may be featured in the fic
Finally tell me what you think Read and Review