Chapter Six - Fracas

Deke smiled at his good fortune as he drew one card that filled out his straight. The pot was substantial and would nicely supplement his payoff from old man Carpenter. It was a good thing too, cause they had been scraping the bottom of the barrel before coming to this town.

Fighting the good fight against evil wasn't too profitable in these wild days. There was the occasional rare instance when an evil being had a wanted poster out on its normal façade they could collect on, but most of their money came from poker or the occasional odd job.

Most folks didn't want to believe evil that sinister existed and when faced with the reality, the most they could manage to muster for the vanquishers who saved them was a good hot meal and a hearty thank-you. There wasn't much money to be made in the West anyhow, but then again, they didn't do it for the money. The Winchesters did it for two reasons: revenge and justice.

It was their calling, their destiny. They embarked on this vendetta when evil came to them destroying their normal family life. Deke reflected on the course of his life, and lamented how different it would all be if they were still the homesteaders eking out a living on their small parcel of land and raising the horses he still dreamed of one day breeding.

Yeah, he had dreams of another life, but he knew it wasn't to be. He now knew evil existed on a grand scale, and there was no way to turn back the clock and pretend he could ever be anything other than a hunter of evil. His destiny was set the night he watched his mother die in that horrific fire that destroyed his family and cast his future.

His opponent threw in his hand and Deke pulled in the money that would have them set for the next month or so. Man, he sure loved the game of poker! His last remaining opponents gave up and left the table which left Deke alone with his winnings. Aggie smiled at him from the end of the bar and brought two beers over to share with him.

"Jake teach you to play poker?" She quietly asked.

"Jake taught me everything." He replied with a grin.

She smiled sweetly at him and wondered how she could ever have thought badly of him. Now that she knew he was Jake's son, she saw a dozen resemblances between them. The same sparkling eyes and quick grin, the same seductive, sensuous voice that melted her heart, and the same fire in their soul that burned from a deep, meaningful purpose in life. Yeah, Deke was most certainly cut from the same cloth as her Jake.

"Hey, you bastard. You took our entertainment away. You need to pay." The rowdy cowpoke cursed at Deke.

"Settle down now. Let's just talk about this." Deke reasoned.

Reason didn't factor into this cowpoke's actions, he was mad and gonna take it out on the only culprit he could find to vent his anger on. He knocked over the table Deke was sitting at and lunged forward with a nasty right hook which, unfortunately for him, missed as Deke effortlessly ducked. The cowpoke stumbled and landed face first on the floor, which only increased his hatred for this Ranger. He rose to his feet and again tried to connect with a left upper cut which was deflected by Deke's defensive block.

Deke hadn't started this fight, but he was more than willing to end it, as he connected with several well placed hits to the cowpoke's face and ribs. Deke was masterfully in control of this fight, until the cowpoke's buddies decided to join in the fray.

Five against one is hardly a fair fight in anyone's book. Deke got hit from behind and stumbled into another table that went crashing to the floor from the impact. He needn't worry about returning to his feet as two of the cowboys grabbed him from behind and pulled him up, holding him so their buddy could pummel his face and gut.

Blood filled his mouth and spilled out onto his fresh shirt. Man, don't they know how hard it is to get blood out of a shirt? And he only owned two shirts! Damn, they were gonna pay for this, as soon as he managed to get himself out of this mess.

He broke free of their hold, only to come across a new cowpoke ready with another blow to his face which reeled him around so the first opponent could again connect with several jabs to his ribs. He bowled over in sharp pain as the cowboys once again grabbed him to hold for another round of punches. He heard a single gunshot and looked up to see his good buddy Sheriff Adams waving the men aside.

"That's enough. You men better go on home or you can spend the night in jail." The sheriff warned.

They released their hold on Deke and he felt himself starting to stagger before Aggie stepped up and grabbed him by the waist and steadied his body against her own. He regained his balance and slowly walked over to the bar, leaning on Aggie as he went and raised his hand to the barkeep.

"Whiskey."

The barkeep put out a foggy shot glass and filled it half-way with whiskey. He turned to walk away as Deke grabbed his arm.

"Leave the bottle."

Deke released his hold on Aggie and steadied himself up against the bar as he slung back the shot. Blood spilled into his glass, but he ignored it as he took the bottle and poured another shot. He brought the second shot up to his lips, savoring the liquid fire. The liquor burned as it washed up against the cuts in his mouth but again he ignored it, swallowing the whiskey along with whatever blood still existed in his mouth.

"You alright there Deke?" Sheriff Adams asked.

"Never better." Deke lied.

"Aggie if you wanna help him up to your room, I'll send the doc over to stitch him up." The sheriff offered.

"Thanks Sheriff, I'll do that." Aggie whispered. She looked upon that handsome face with its multiple cuts and bruises and sighed again at the harshness of this town.

"Come on Deke, let's get you to bed." Aggie again placed her body against his to help him walk across the bar and up the long flight of stairs.

"Aggie, while I'd love to go to bed with you, somehow I don't think that's too proper." Deke joked in a whisper, trying to maintain any semblance of control he could over his fragile condition. He grabbed hold of his bottle and walked gingerly, leaning against Aggie's small, but steady frame.

When the doc arrived he found several cuts that needed stitched up and some cracked ribs to tightly wind his bandages around in an attempt to immobilize them. He poured some of Deke's whiskey over his cuts to ward off infection, and took a swig of the whiskey to steady his hands as he stitched.

Deke paid the doc with four bits and lay back down on sweet Aggie's bed to rest for the night. His head and ribs hurt like hell, but it wasn't the first or last time he would get his body thrashed. All in a days work, he mused.