Chapter Twenty-Seven
After several minutes, Jess was able to make it to a standing position. Feeling too unsteady to take a step, he swayed where he was, willing himself to keep on his feet. His breaths came in such short spurts he was practically panting, and every inhalation and exhalation seared his throat. He gingerly touched the wound around his neck and wiped away some of the blood trailing down from it.
The rancher, still seated on the ground and tied against the tree, watched him apprehensively. "I didn't realize. I didn't understand that it was the McCanles gang that did it. And that girl who said her name was McCarthy… she was one of them, wasn't she? She was a McCanles daughter?"
Wobbling a bit and blinking at the blurriness that still plagued him, Jess glared at the man and nodded. As he continued to try to draw a deeper breath, he stood still, resting his hand on his Colt's handle.
As Evans watched that hand move to the gun, suddenly something the girl had said resurfaced in his memory. Harper. The girl had called this man "Mister Harper." Blazes! Could this be Jess Harper?! Was this young man, whom he and his men mercilessly beat and then wrongfully hanged… was this man Jess Harper the gunslinger? Evans stared at the fingers flexing on the grip of the gun in the low-slung holster. Sweat beaded across the rancher's forehead.
"I'm sorry, son. What I did was wrong. I won't cause you any more trouble." He hastened to try to allay some of the animosity that was glinting in the man's blackened eyes. "You can just cut me loose from here now, and I'll even go in the house and get you some money to take on your way. And some food. Liquor too."
Though Jess stood steadier now, each breath still rasped in his bruised throat. He slowly started toward the rancher, still glaring at him.
Evans began to shake. "All of it. You can have every cent I have on the place, son. Just get this rope off me, and I'll open my safe wide for you to take whatever you want."
Nearing the tree where the man was tied, Jess' right hand left his gun as he leaned down.
Assuming Harper was reaching toward his boot for a knife to cut him loose, Evans sighed with relief that Harper didn't seem to plan on shooting him. He would soon be freed from the tree. And he meant what he said. He would give the young man money. And yes, he would open his safe, and let Harper help himself. A wave of near panic hit him, though, when he recalled that all it held at the moment was maybe five hundred dollars or so. What if that wouldn't satisfy Harper? Tensing again, Evans sat up as straight as he could and waited for Harper to pull out a knife and cut him loose.
"If you don't have a blade on ya, son. I'll tell ya where to get one in the house or the tool shed."
Evans began to shake again. He would be lucky if Harper used a knife only on the rope tying his wrists.
More likely, though, if Harper wanted to finish him off, being a gunslinger he would do it with a bullet.
Trembling, Evans tried to maintain some dignity as he waited for some kind of response. There was none. Then he saw why Harper had bent down, and it had nothing to do with getting a knife or cutting Evans loose.
Jess picked up his black Stetson from near the man's legs, slapped it against his thigh to brush off the dirt, and set it in place over his dark hair. He came no closer to the tree.
Without a further look in the tied man's direction, he plodded past Evans and toward Traveller, who was tied to a tree beside a small pond, where the bay had drunk his fill.
Traveller joyfully nuzzled his master's shoulder, and Jess patted his mount's neck, leaning heavily against him for a while as he waited for his lightheadedness to pass.
Then, Jess did something that caused Evans' eyes to widen and his trembling to turn into full body quaking.
He pulled his gun out of his holster.
'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
"Harper… Mister Harper… I'm sorry. You know how it is… a rancher losing a lot of his cattle… I… I wasn't thinking right."
Jess slowly spun the cylinder of his gun, checking to be sure it was still fully loaded as it had been when it was taken from him.
"I'm a widower, Mister Harper. But I have a housekeeper. She'll be back from the neighbors' soon. She's good with wound care." Evans was trying to come up with anything to offer Harper to try to cool the gunman's temper. "She can clean and bandage your neck and wrists for ya."
Harper threw a glower at him that could melt an iceberg.
Evans regretted drawing attention to the wounds he himself had caused. His breathing quickened, and his heart beat wildly in his chest as he watched Harper pull the hammer back.
But then, the gunfighter eased the hammer into its usual position, his intention having been only to make a check of the mechanism. Jess looked over every aspect of his forty-five, making sure it was in first-rate shape as always. He re-holstered the weapon. Evans hung his head in relief.
The horse Evans and his men had sat Jess on for the hanging had calmed and now stood near Traveller, munching on some grass. Jess trudged to the gray and, patting the horse on the withers, removed the canteen hanging on the saddlehorn. Judging it to be full, he took it back to his own horse and hung it over the saddlehorn.
Finally feeling like he had the strength to mount, Jess painfully pulled himself into the saddle, feeling every hurt, bruise, and cut from the beating doled out to him, plus the hanging. Raising his own canteen he uncapped it and swallowed a sip of water, then another, grimacing as the liquid slid down his parched and swollen throat.
Hanging the canteen over the saddlehorn again, he turned Traveller to head in the opposite direction that Evans' son and the cowhands had ridden. For one last moment, he stared at the rancher tied to the tree, wishing he could tell if the supposed remorse the man had expressed was real.
Evans still watched him warily, fear obvious in his eyes. Jess glanced over at the low hills, knowing the man's son would be coming over them soon to find out why his father hadn't gone out to the problem area on the range. He didn't want to deal with anything further regarding this ranch or the men on it, in case Evans' apology was not sincere.
Jess winced at a sudden pain flaring like flames around his neck, and he longed to pour some cool water on the rope burn. That would have to wait until he was a safe distance off toward the northeast.
Aching to be far away from this place, and far away from Troy McCanles and her outlaw family, Jess heeled Traveller, and they headed out.
'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
Jess wished he could go to the sheriff in the nearest town to report that Evans had tried to kill him. But Evans would likely deny it, and the word of a known gunslick against the word of a well-to-do rancher and all his hands wouldn't go far. Evans might even concoct some story to get Jess arrested. There were no posters out on him now, no lawmen or bounty hunters after him, and he wanted to keep it that way. This was just one more injustice done to him that he would have to handle, for which he would have to try to overcome the anger.
So as he rode, Jess did as his pa had taught him and focused on the good he could find in his life. He wondered about the man who was on the run from the law and yet had taken the time and risk to intervene and save his life. With his blurred vision, he had never gotten a clear look at the man. He didn't even know his name. If it would have been safe for him to wait around the ranch long enough to be able to talk, he would have asked Evans if he knew it.
But even now, when he tried to say something to Traveller, his voice refused to work. He had no idea how long it would take him to recover from all his injuries. He would have to lay low, stay away from people, and give himself time to become strong again.
When he felt better, he hoped to find out something about a wanted man being in the area, so he could track down the man who had prevented his murder. For the entirely opposite reason than why he was trying to find the Bannister gang. He wanted to thank the man to whom he owed the ultimate debt. Maybe see if he could reward him or help him somehow.
As for Troy McCanles… He hoped with all he was worth that, for as long as he lived, he would never have to lay eyes on her again.
For now, he would work at turning his thoughts to something positive. His father's words echoed through the years.
"What ya gonna say, Jess?"
He couldn't say it right now. His throat wouldn't allow it. But in his memory, he heard his father's voice saying it for him, with him. I'm fine.
'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
─end of Part Seven─
Author's Note
Characters in this part:
Troy McCanles: from Cactus Lady
Joe Markle: from The Debt
The reference to Jess working at the Shannons' Tri-Bar S ranch in Colorado comes from my story A Time and A Time and Forever.