The loud knock on the wooden door startled the men playing poker. Timmonds stood, gun in hand.
"Rand, answer it."
"Me? Why me?"
"Because I told you to, now go."
Rand drew his pistol and cautiously opened the door. He about jumped out of his skin when he saw Matt Dillon standing on the front porch as if he were making a social call. Rand leveled his gun at the tall marshall.
"Don't do nothin' fast, Dillon."
Matt shook his head. "Wasn't plannin' on it."
Timmonds moved behind Rand, his gun pointed at Matt's head. "Take off your gunbelt, Marshall, real nice and slow."
Matt glared at the man. "Timmonds. Harley Timmonds."
"That's right, Dillon, now take off your gunbelt."
Dillon did as he was told, and handed the belt to Rand. Timmonds stared at the tall man for a long moment, then waved him inside with his gun.
"Get in here." Matt stepped in and Rand closed the door. Timmonds turned toward Marlow and Rolley. "You two, go check outside, make sure he ain't got no friends."
Marlow and Rolley picked up a couple of shotguns and left the room. Timmonds pulled out a chair for Dillon.
"Sit down, marshall, we have some jawin' to do."
Matt sat down and waited. After staring at him for several minutes, Timmonds finally spoke.
"Six years ago you took somethin' from me, Dillon. Something I can't make up."
Matt thought for a moment and then spoke. "Your brother Donny."
Timmonds jaw set. "Yeah. You killed him."
"I didn't have any choice."
"I was the one who had to choose that day, Dillon. It was Donny, or me and my woman."
"So you saved yourself. A lot of men might make that choice."
"But not you, Marshall, would you..." Matt stared hard at the man, and he continued. "You'd gladly give up your own life rather than choose between someone close to you and your woman." As understanding dawned on Dillon, he swallowed hard. Timmonds stood and held the gun under Dillon's jaw. "I got the Doc and your woman here, Marshall, and you're going to choose which one of them lives, and which one of them dies. And you're going to watch, like I had to, knowin' it was your doin'."
"You harm either one of them, Timmonds, and I swear to God I'll kill you."
Sensing he had pushed under Dillon's skin, Timmonds smiled. "You've got one hour to choose, Dillon. Don't waste none of it." He nodded toward the bedroom door. "They're back there."
"And if I don't?"
"If'n you don't, marshall, I'll kill 'em both."
"You'll kill them both and me anyway, Timmonds."
"No, marshall, I won't." He held Matt's eyes with his own, and Dillon felt the truth. "I give you my word on my brother's grave; whichever one you don't pick will walk outta here alive with you after me and boys is gone."
"You're not going to let me go..."
"That's where you're wrong, Dillon. I want you to live with your decision. I want you to chew on it every day for the rest of your life." He stared hard into Matt's face. "And I promise you, it'll come to haunt you every minute, of every hour, of every day."
Matt swallowed hard as he reached for the handle of the door to the bedroom. There were few options for such a desperate man: and Matt Dillon had never felt as desperate as he did in that moment.