Chapter Three
Jesse jumped off his horse, looking around. He was the first one to get to old church. The little building was starting to fall apart. The once white paint was chipping and had turned an ugly off white. The black shutters had turned brown and some were even falling off the hinges. The once clean and shining windows were broken and filled with dust.
Jesse took his chestnut around the back where he would be out of site. He then went inside and looked around. The place was empty. The old pews looked inviting, and he knew that he needed to pray. He stared at the cross that hung over the alter and felt more guilt rising in his heart.
"I never should have left him," Jesse whispered as he removed his hat and sat down.
Jesse stared down at the floor as the scene played out in his head. The whole gang had ridden into town. Once in the city limits they split up. Frank, Cole, and he went into the bank. The others were positioned outside.
When Jesse stepped inside the room, he could tell that something was wrong. There was only one woman in the bank, and she was a teller, who seemed very nervous. They had pulled out their guns as they always did. None of them knew what happened until it was over.
The silent bank became filled the sound of gunshots. Cole and Frank went behind the nearest table as Jesse started shooting. Out of nowhere Jesse's gun stuck. Cole continued shooting, never realizing that his cousin was in trouble. Frank jumped up and ran over to him, tossing him another gun.
After every man lay dead in that bank, the shooting stopped. The three men got up and helped the teller out. They stepped out and stood face to face with the marshal. Cole quickly squeezed off a round that sent them for their horses.
Jesse remembered his horse so hard that he feared that it might falter. They rode for what seemed like hours until Cole's horse slipped on a rock. The others wanted to ride, but Jesse and Frank went back. It was then that everything went wrong. Jesse had ridden up next to Cole and was pulling him on the horse when another shot rang out. Jesse knew that shot had missed him. He looked at Cole, who was scrambling to get in the saddle. He was fine.
"Frank?" Jesse had asked.
Frank had only nodded. However Jesse could see the blood that drenched his side. He had started to ride off.
"Come on, Frank!" He had yelled.
"Go, Jesse!" Frank had yelled back. "I'll catch up."
Jesse had spurred his horse and never looked back. He stopped in the nearest town and got Cole new horse. He inquired about Frank, but no one had heard from him. That was four days ago. Now he sat in the church, waiting. He wanted his brother back, but something told him that he had lost him on his trail of certain death. He ran troubled hand through his hair.
"God," Jesse whispered. "I know that I have not been a praying man, but if you just look after Frank for me."
Jesse looked at the cross again. He never liked going to church. He always felt like he was being judged. It was worse now. He knew that he was being judged. He never should have left Frank. Jesse stood up and kicked a nearby piece of wood. His whole plan was falling apart. It wasn't supposed to be like this. No one was going to die, especially anyone in his family.