CHAPTER 5 - THE SHOWDOWN
Reason flies
When following the senses, on clipped wings.
~ Dante 1321
Johnny hadn't realized how out of shape he was until he got out of bed the next morning. He was stiff and sore in places he'd forgotten existed, but he covered it up well. By lunchtime, the brothers found a middle ground and settled into a companionable way of working together.
Over the next couple of days they joined their cowpokes moving the stock, took care of some improvements to the land and then rode into the hills to survey a mining operation that Scott was considering closing down.
Scott talked to the men laboring at the mine for a while and listened to their concerns. When he had finished his business and he and Johnny were riding away, Scott said, "I don't see any point in throwing good money after bad with these small mines. The big companies out in Colorado produce massive amounts of ore and we piddle around with a half-ton a quarter."
"Why don't you close it down?"
"It's not that easy and besides, it's not my call. Our father has the last say about everything, or don't you remember?"
"Oh yeah, I remember, but I'd have thought-."
"It's not our job to think, Johnny. It's to scout and report," Scott said sharply.
"Doesn't the old man let you off for good behavior?" Johnny knew how things worked around Lancer, but he considered that Scott had as much of a stake in the ranch as did the old man. "Maybe it's time you took over some of the decision making."
Scott hauled on the reins until his horse halted. His features were set and inflexible. "You're a silent partner now, remember?"
Watching his brother pivot his horse and ride away, Johnny almost laughed at the rebuke. He shook his head. Scott was getting more like Murdoch every day. Johnny had given up any rights as far as decisions about the ranch when he'd left, and he took no reward from its income, but he could still speak his mind if he wanted to.
Barranca had healed up so Johnny was finally able to ride him. Once mounted, it was as if he'd never been away. The horse responded to his every touch, and seemed to enjoy being back at work.
Scott smiled at the palomino's obvious pleasure at being ridden. "He doesn't get out much, even though I ride him when I can," he said apologetically. "Are you going to take him with you when you leave?"
"He likes it here, Scott. Plenty of pasture, good care." Johnny was torn about whether or not to leave Barranca at Lancer when he left in a week or so.
"It seems as though your new black gelding is more your style these days," Scott said in an offhand tone. "You're leaving all the old things behind, aren't you?"
That got Johnny's back up. "Maybe Santiago is more my style. We can't all live in the past, now can we?" He spurred his palomino and set off at a gallop, and Scott followed suit.
After another grueling day following Scott around and doing whatever tasks he was assigned without any complaint, Johnny decided he'd had enough. "I'm going to clean up and go see Val. You want to come and play cards with us?"
Scott sat in his saddle and pointedly looked at the sun. "It's still daylight."
"It's suppertime anyhow." Johnny patted Barranca's neck. "My horse has had enough, too." As if to agree, the palomino bobbed his head up and down, eliciting a laugh from Johnny.
"There's still a lot to do, Johnny and-."
"Scott, we've done more than our share today. I know you want to wear me into the ground, and you've accomplished just that, but we both need a break." Johnny cajoled, "A hot bath, a little supper, a visit with some old friends, a few hands of cards. . ."
Surprisingly, Scott agreed. "Val's working nights this week, isn't he?"
"Yeah, and Murdoch said Teresa is coming today, with the nursemaid and the kids." He shifted in his saddle. "They should be at the hacienda by the time we get in."
With a sigh, Scott said, "Then I guess we'd better get all spiffed up and be at the table on time."
"Wouldn't hurt you to put on some clean clothes for the guests," Johnny said with a smirk.
"Well, I'll be sure to follow your example, brother." With that said, Scott turned his horse in the direction of home. He wondered if he could make it all the way through a family meal without finding the need to make up an excuse to leave. The more people there were in a room, the more isolated he felt.
Supper had not been quite the chore that Scott had expected it to be. Perhaps it was because Johnny had acted as a buffer and with Teresa there they'd found plenty of subjects to talk about. Teresa, sitting next to Bettina, was wearing one of the finest dresses that Scott had ever seen her in, and with her hair put up and a few tendrils framing her face she appeared radiant.
The children were present, with Mara ensconced in a wooden high chair that her granddad Murdoch had made, and little Johnny seated on Bettina's lap. Crying erupted before the second course, so the women took the children up to bed. Teresa soon returned, saying that Maria's granddaughter was up there to help out, and that everything was under control. They moved to the great room to sit in front of the fire after the meal, but soon both Teresa and Murdoch began to yawn.
When Scott saw Murdoch nod off, he told Teresa in a low voice, "I'm going to town with Johnny."
Teresa kissed each of them good night, and lightly lectured them about watching the other players' eyes for hints of bluffing. She hugged Scott warmly, noting that he looked nicer than usual in a crisp white shirt. She thought that his fresh haircut had taken a couple of years off his age, too. "And keep an eye on that husband of mine."
"Don't worry," Scott replied, purposely misunderstanding her. "I can tell when he's bluffing a mile off. I'll get the horses, Johnny."
Teresa followed Johnny to the door and gave him a quick hug. "You boys will take care, won't you?"
Johnny glanced back at the dozing figure of his father and asked Teresa in an undertone, "Should we be expecting some kind of trouble?"
"I don't want to make a fuss, but there's a rancher, Hal Granger, who's been making trouble recently. Val won't say so, but I get the feeling this man has made some kind of threat. I don't want to sound like an alarmist but Granger gave me the most awful look in town the other day and I, well I have bad feeling about him. I'm sure that's why my husband wanted me to bring the children here while he's working all-nighters."
When Johnny thought of someone threatening his family, his anger rose and his heart hardened. It was a feeling he hadn't experienced for some time, a way for him to separate himself from his loved ones in order to defend them. He schooled his emotions, kissed the top of Teresa's head and said, "I'll watch out for him."
The poker game was in the front room of the large sheriff's office in Green River. Due to several prisoners in the cells in the back, Val or one of his deputies had to remain on duty. That didn't stop Sheriff Crawford from asking three of his friends in to play cards with him and the Lancer boys. Occasionally during the play he had to go out and check on the town, or to settle some small fracas. Later in the evening Deputy Bill Payson came on duty so Val sent him on the next patrol.
Val's friends looked from Johnny to Scott when the brothers first walked in. Wearing a white shirt and a honey-colored corduroy jacket that matched his blond hair, Scott's appearance couldn't have looked any more different from Johnny's if he'd tried. They had both dressed well for supper earlier that evening, due to Teresa's presence, and neither had changed for the poker game.
Johnny had shed his work clothes in favor of his dark city attire once again, complete with yet another fancy vest, this time of rich red silk. With his dark hair and mustache, bronzed skin, black hat and a black string tie, he looked enough out of place for the men at the poker table to immediately stand to shake his hand.
Johnny seemed slightly abashed by the attention, but after a short while and a round of drinks from the bottle of whiskey he had thought to bring along, they all acted like old friends. There was some good-natured ribbing about his clothing and his shoulder holster, and Johnny was asked to demonstrate how he drew his revolver without it catching on his clothing.
After a while, Scott suggested, "How about we get this game going before dawn, gentlemen?" He pulled cash out of his pocket, purchased a stack of chips and gave half to his brother without even looking at him.
Johnny just nodded his thanks. He enjoyed playing games of chance, but he never took them too seriously.
Scott was more of a gambler, for all of his good sense, but he insisted he worked out all the odds and that was why, he said, he often took most of the pot home. "You have to remember," Scott pointed out, "that Murdoch says he won the ranch with three jacks and a bluff, so who are we to deny ourselves a little poker?"
The players took a break to chow down on some food they'd ordered from the cantina across the way. Johnny took the opportunity to pull Val aside and ask him about Granger. "Teresa said you've had run-ins with this man?"
"Hal Granger is just another bully. Been lookin' for trouble ever since his wife ran off with some greenhorn." The sheriff jerked his thumb over his shoulder towards the jail cells. "Granger's son is one of our guests tonight. He got a little rough with one of the gals at Miss Sadie's. I'm afraid he's taking after his Pa," he said sourly. "Granger gets drunk on a regular basis but hasn't done nothin' I can pin on him. Not yet anyways." He gave Johnny a taut smile. "But then it's only Thursday."
"Did he threaten our family?"
"Not in so many words. I hit him with the butt of my pistol anyways. Didn't like the smirk on his face. Teresa said he made some comment to her on the street and it wasn't his words, she said, but the way he looked at her and the kids that scared her." Val was glad that his wife and children were safe at Lancer, in any case.
Johnny watched Scott talking in a friendly manner with one of the poker players. At least there was no sign of anything troubling his brother that evening. Johnny turned back to Val and asked, "Is this Granger going to take the hint?"
"Well, so far, Granger hasn't done anything but talk, but he might get riled up with his kid incarcerated. Or if he's cornered." Val rubbed at his chin and shrugged. "Who's to say what a man'll do when he's pushed a might too hard?"
Johnny asked, "You figure that Teresa is exaggerating?"
Pulling a face, Val said, "She's expecting, and sees danger behind every bush. You know women."
"Yeah, but not too many pregnant ones," Johnny replied.
Around ten, Johnny put on his jacket and went out front to take in some of the cool night air and to have a smoke. Although he loved sampling cigars, he also enjoyed an occasional cigarette. He took his time rolling his smoke using a sheet of rice paper, peering back in the sheriff's office window now and then. Scott seemed to be getting along fine with the other players, probably because they were running a tight game and the skill level was pretty high - for a small town. Johnny thought the competition was a good challenge for his brother.
Green River was quiet enough. Johnny leaned back against the building and kept an eye on the street out of habit. A few men sauntered in and out of the cantina opposite but the larger and better-lit Moralto Hotel seemed the be the most popular place in town. Even from a distance, Johnny could see activity within: gambling and entertainment provided by some dance hall girls. When he and Scott left the sheriff's game, Johnny thought he'd try to get his brother to accompany him into the Moralto for a bit of fun.
The second deputy came out of the office and made off down the street, rattling stores' locked doors as he went on his rounds. Johnny had been introduced to him earlier but had promptly forgotten his name. The man seemed pale and characterless, but if Val had hired him, he must be good at his job, Johnny thought, as he inhaled the cigarette smoke deeply. The tobacco burned evenly and had a good flavor, but the pleasure he got from it didn't last long. After a while, Johnny was lured back into the sheriff's office by the sound of Scott's laughter.
Just as Johnny stepped back inside, a shot rang out from somewhere up the street. Within a couple of seconds, Sheriff Crawford was out the door, a shotgun in one hand. He yelled back to his remaining deputy to stick with the prisoners. Scott and Johnny followed without question, guns drawn.
They cornered Hal Granger in the barroom of the Moralto Hotel. The clients and dance hall girls had taken cover and ducked out of the saloon as soon as trouble started. The body of the deputy lay in the center of the floor with blood flowing in an ever-widening pool around him. There was no doubt he was already dead. Val was poised about twenty feet from Granger, who was at the far end of the long bar. The sheriff stood at an angle, his shotgun held at the ready, braced against his hip as he tried to reason with the armed man.
Granger stood with his back against the wall, his eyes darting wildly around the room. There was a smoking revolver in his hand, but it was held loosely and aimed at the floor as if he'd forgotten it was still clutched in his hand.
"Now, Hal," Val cajoled, "how about you put that pistol there down so we can talk about this all peaceful-like?"
Scott slowly moved to the right until he was at the near end of the long mahogany bar and, without any direction, Johnny stepped to the left. He took cover behind a pillar and waited for Granger to give himself up. Or raise his gun. He hoped the man was going to try to fight his way out.
Out of nowhere Johnny recalled the name of the dead deputy: Hansen. The deputy didn't deserve to get shot down like that. No man did.
Without warning, Granger upended a large round table, ducked behind it and sent a volley of shots in the direction of the sheriff. Val hit the floor and rolled. He ended up close to Scott, who got off a couple of rounds that took chunks out of the wooden tabletop. Granger raised his head to return the fire, and Val let go with one barrel of the shotgun.
The blast tore out a sizeable section of the table, but Granger somehow evaded the flying lead and scuttled to better cover behind the end of the bar. He laughed even though he was pinned down and yelled, "You ain't gonna get away with jailin' my boy! Gonna take you out, Crawford, then I'm going after your family, that's for damned sure!"
Johnny knew that there was no way that either Scott or Val was going to get a clear shot at the killer with the whole length of the bar between them. It appeared that Granger was focused on Val and Scott's location and wasn't even aware that Johnny was also in the barroom. Had Granger used up all of his ammo? Johnny was pretty sure the killer had one bullet left, but there was a big difference between one bullet and none.
Val called out, "Gonna take a better man than you to get through me, Granger. This ain't gonna get your boy outta my jail! Now do what's best for everyone concerned and toss out your gun." The sheriff cautiously peered around the end of the bar, but couldn't see Granger from his position.
"You're not gonna tell me what to do, Crawford," retorted the man pinned down behind the bar. "Just give me one clean shot and I'll put you out of your misery!"
Johnny was the only one who could see their quarry hunkered down behind the protection of the bar, although the man was only partially visible. Johnny took a step back, keeping the wooden pillar in the line of sight between him and Granger, and prepared to move out into the open.
Scott saw the movement out of the corner of his eye. His heart was in his mouth when he realized his brother was about to attempt a preemptive action. He risked distracting Johnny and made a sharp motion with his hand, indicating he should stay back where he was and wait until he could outflank Granger. Johnny must have seen him, but took no notice. Scott swore under his breath. Just when Scott crouched and started sneaking along the inside of the bar, Johnny made his move.
Letting out a deep breath, Johnny stepped from behind his cover. With his hands held out to indicate he was unarmed, he took a step forward and called Granger's name loudly to get his attention. Just as if it was in slow motion, Johnny saw the man's head turn to look at him, his mouth hanging open in surprise.
Granger took in Johnny's raised hands, but any hesitation he had at shooting at an unarmed man was soon dismissed. Swiveling, Hal Granger raised his gun to use his last bullet to kill the fellow in the city suit. His gun fired with a roar and a cloud of spent powder.
***–***TBC