Trouble with Drifters
Chapter 4: Get Out of Town!
Harry sat down across from Inara as she ate her lunch. Their customers would be showing up soon leaving no time to eat. "You look...satisfied Inara." He said taking a drink of his coffee giving her a hard look. "Lunch tastes really good this morning." Inara replied with a smile not caring what her employer thought. She got the information Harry wanted without even trying. Mr. Wayne told her what he wanted Harry and others to know, nothing else. This bounty hunter definitely wasn't stupid.
Harry got the impression that she should have paid the bounty hunter given her look of satisfaction. "I'm not referring to the food Inara. Mr. Williams won't be pleased with you if he finds out." He continued wanting to slap her but refrained from doing so. Inara's looks and voice brought customers in so he'd have to punish her another way. "Then don't tell him then. Do you want to know what I found out or not?" she replied with a rebellious tone. "Watch your tone Inara..." Harry said starting go get mad at the harlot. He sometimes regretted saving the women in front of him. "...or what Mr. Maybourne? You'll lock me in my room again!" She answered back staring at the man.
"What did you find out about Mr. Wayne?" Harry asked dropping the argument with a sigh. He hated it when her independent streak showed up; it never lasted long but gave him headaches. "His first name is Jonathon and plans on staying a week, maybe more." She answered after taking a sip of herbal tea, one of her private pleasures. "Did he say if the reason was business or pleasure?" Harry asked thinking Jonathon might know somebody in town or be on the hunt. "Mr. Wayne said some friends moved here a while back and he's going to visit with them, didn't say who though." Inara replied as she finished her meal. "Jonathon isn't here on business then, that's good to know. Did he tell you anything about his past such as previous employment or family?" Harry said wanting more history on the man to possibly gain leverage if needed. Granted people do lie to hide from their past, criminal or otherwise.
"Mr. Wayne didn't say much else however what is saw told me plenty." Inara replied hiding a grin behind the cup remembering how Jonathon's skin felt under her caress. Harry looked annoyed starting to get up not fully understanding what she meant. She rolled her eyes calling him an idiot in her mind. "Like I would share that with you Mr. Maybourne...sometimes what you see is more telling than what a person says." He sat back down motioning for Kowalski to bring him another coffee. "What did you see then?" Harry asked leaning back in the chair losing his anger with Inara. She was extremely smart and observant, sometimes too much. Her having sex with Mr. Wayne could be overlooked if the information was relevant.
Inara set the cup down looking her employer in the eye with folded hands. "Mr. Wayne has seven gunshot wounds, 2 in the back and 5 in the front. He has what looks like a wound from an arrow on the right thigh. Then a couple scars from being stabbed with a knife in the chest and left side." she told him leaving out how muscular and strong he is. Harry thought for a moment taking in the information. Mr. Wayne is a survivor and a hard man to kill. He could use a man like Mr. Wayne providing he was interested in the work. "Did you notice anything besides the physical?" Harry asked rolling his eyes; he needed more information than that. "Mr. Wayne carries 2 Colts with 5 marks on each of the grips. The saddle bags have a funny symbol on them, an upside down 'V' with a circle over the top. When I asked about the design his voice dropped telling me not to ask again." Inara said hoping that would be enough. She left out Jonathon's questions of her. There was no need for Harry to know Mr. Wayne had a purpose besides visiting a friend. Harry pushed the chair back standing up. "You did good Inara, go get ready. If last Sunday was any indication we're going to be packed again." He ordered walking away going over what Inara told him. Mr. Jonathon Wayne had a past that was for sure. His overreaction to a simple question about a symbol indicated that. Harry decided offer the bounty hunter a front row seat at Miss Serra's show. That would give him a chance to observe Mr. Wayne himself. Maybe see how he reacted to wild cowboys and ranchers.
Mr. Wayne walked into the 'Desert Dwellers Diner' a bell ringing over head as the door opened. There were a few families already seated talking among themselves paying him no mind. The dining area was rather large accommodating at least 100 people. Paintings of trains, stages coaches and various animals hung on the walls. The tables were nicely decorated with white table cloths and wild flowers in vases. What he saw almost made him want to turn around and leave. Memories of better days came painfully to mind but he quickly shoved them aside, hunger being more important. The head waitress, Helen, seated him in a corner table per his request. He had no desire to die like Wild Bill Hickok did in 1876 (A/N1). Helen took his order of T-bone steak with mashed taters and corn. Steak would taste like a slice of heaven after being on the trail for so long.
Mr. Wayne drank his coffee while reading the local newspaper, Haven News. The front page article about recent horse and cattle rustling caught his attention. The writer quoted Malcolm Reynolds, owner of Serenity Ranch, saying 'Violence would ensue if Sheriff Shanahan didn't act.' Jonathon couldn't blame the man if the sheriff wasn't doing everything possible to catch the thieves. The one sentence that stood out though was 'Mr. Williams wasn't concerned believing that sheriff Shanahan could catch the rustlers given time.' The large rancher wasn't in an up roar given Shanahan hasn't made progress in two months. This didn't sit right with the bounty hunter, something was off. George Hammond declined to answer though according to the article.
He heard more people file in talking about Sheppard Books 'Fire & Brimstone' sermon amongst other things. Mr. Wayne put the paper down to see if any of the people Miss Serra told him about walked in. Sure enough Mayor Cliff Simon walked in wearing a tailored east coast suit and fancy black Stetson. Helen immediately took him to a reserved table near the doors. Next in was George Hammond, owner of Heaven's Gate Ranch. He was 5'8" and a bit overweight. He looked to be in his early 50s with an air of authority. Hammond sat at the mayors table starting up a conversation that was barely audible. Maybe he should have taken the table in the middle of the diner where various conversations could've been overheard. Jonathon's food arrived taking his attention away from the entrance momentarily. The steak tasted great getting better with each bite. He stopped cutting his steak feeling someone staring at him intently. The person or rather lady was Miss Carter giving him a look of 'how dare that man be here!' He simply gave her a polite nod going back to eating. She sat the mayors table along with her father and Sheriff Shanahan. Inara said that Shanahan was courting Miss Carter for about a month now. The sheriff wore a cheap tan suite topped off with a bowler hat to match. The boots were muddy though which was odd. He didn't see any muddy spots on way in town this morning or walking to the diner.
The conversations he did overhear revolved around town gossip, weather and him. People were still in the dark about who he was and making guesses. That meant Maybourne and Mr. Murray hadn't told anyone yet. Eventually what he purposely told Miss Serra would get out per his plan. Jonathon kept an eye on the mayors table for two reasons. The first, he could watch the entrance for trouble. The other reason was the expected 'I'm watching you' talk by the sheriff he always got in new towns. He did notice Miss Carter casually glancing his way from time to time. She also had rare beauty like Miss Serra; although he couldn't put a finger on why.
Jonathon had finished his mashed taters when noticed the sheriff get up from the table. He used a napkin wiping his mouth off then picked up the paper pretending to read it. The diner grew quiet as the sheriff stopped in front of Jonathon's table. Pete cleared his voice attempting to get the strangers attention. He was the sheriff and was not to be ignored by anyone including this stranger. The town folk present were watching making him feel annoyed and embarrassed at the same time. How he wished Samantha would've just let it go till after lunch, but no! She wanted the drifter dealt with immediately stating they had enough problems already.
"Mind if I have a seat mister?" Pete asked as the drifter lowered the paper giving him a once over. "Actually I do Sheriff Shanahan." Jonathon said raising the paper back up on purpose to piss him off. This didn't sit well with Pete, the drifter just made him look like a fool. "Put the paper down mister, we need to talk. I won't ask again." The sheriff said in a low voice attempting to intimidate the man. Jonathon folded the paper up properly taking his time then sat it down. "What do you want to talk about? ...the weather, recent events such as the rustling or me?" He asked folding his hands on the paper.
Getting more annoyed by the minute Pete decided to cut to the chase. Pete put his hands on the table leaning in giving the drifter a hard look. "What is your name; why are you in my town and how do you know my name?" Jonathon narrowed his eyes at Pete then looked around the room settling on the mayors table. The mayor looked at him with interest while Miss Carter looked shocked. He looked back at the sheriff lighting a cigar from his vest pocket. This unsettled Pete because the drifter wasn't intimidated or worried. Pete knew he was losing control of the situation quickly. "My name is Mr. Jonathon Wayne, Mr. Wayne to you." Jonathon said pausing letting the answer sink in for everyone. Pete all but froze hearing the drifter's name. The infamous bounty hunter in his town, this can't be good at all. Pete looked at the bounty hunter feeling a bit of fear build up. The reputation Mr. Wayne was well earned. No one crossed this man, criminal or lawman. Jonathon seeing he had the desired effect continued. "My business in town is none of yours until I make it so. Your name was simple enough given it was listed on the jail Shanahan." He replied blowing smoke in Pete's general direction. "Now listen here Wayne, I have a bit of advice for you...I'm the sheriff and I say who stays and goes!" Pete said getting angrier by the minute while Mr. Wayne stayed calm. Much to his surprise the bounty hunter got up walking around the table staring down at Pete. "I don't repeat myself Shanahan, remember that!" Pete stood up at his full height trying to match the bounty hunters coming up short 2 inches. Jonathon noticed a bead of sweat run down the sheriff's forehead, he was nervous, and all that was needed was a little push.
You could hear a pin drop in the diner for no one was talking; they were totally focused on Mr. Wayne and the sheriff. Jonathon knew he'd just got everyone's attention including Miss Carters. Jonathon gave Pete a devil may care look then continued. "...and I have a suggestion for you Shanahan. Why don't you get back to your pretty philly before I have the mind to court her properly and marry her?" Pete lost his cool with the last comment. No one makes a fool of him especially in front of Samantha. "Mr. Wayne..," Pete cringed knowing he just made a mistake by calling him Mr. Wayne but continued "...it's time for you to leave town right now. I won't have your kind..." the sheriff said only to be cut off. "My kind huh...all you sheriffs are the same. I ride in and immediately I'm branded as trouble. You want me gone?" Jonathon asked standing his ground talking in a harsh tone. "Then make me leave!" the bounty hunter dared then slowly opened his vest pulling out a wallet. He could see the sheriff sweating a little more. This guy had no business being in lawman if he could be intimidated this easy. Jonathon threw $5.00 on the table then turned to the sheriff saying 'your move Shanahan.'
A/N1: Wild Bill Hickok was shot in the back of the head in Deadwood, S Dakota while playing poker. Jack McCall, a gambler, shot and killed Wild Bill holding the now famous hand of 2 pair Aces & 8s (Dead man's hand).
LoneWolf O'Neill