Oath of I'm Fine
Part Five
The year: November 1865
Jess Harper's age: 19 years old
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Chapter Thirteen
"I'll take three."
Jess Harper slid his three discards away and added the three new cards to his poker hand. He leaned back in his chair in the large saloon at the edge of Houston.
"Exchanging as many cards as allowed, huh, kid?" The tall, well-dressed man across from him sniggered. "Figure you can keep lucking out if you just replace most of your hand. Is that right?"
Jess didn't respond. He just stared blankly at the man. He had always been told he had a great poker face. When he sat in on a game, he made sure no one could ever guess what he was thinking. But inside he was mighty aggravated. That dude-type fella had badgered him through every round, hoping to rattle him into giving away a tell or making some other type of mistake. It hadn't worked yet, and Jess knew it never would. He wished the guy would just quit it.
What bothered him most was the way the mustachioed gambler constantly called him "kid." He didn't mind when some much older man called him kid; they meant it in a friendly, even respectful, way. This guy meant it to degrade him, to put him in his place and keep him there. Yeah, sure, like the dude himself was some seasoned old man. Jess reckoned him to be, at most, maybe ten years older than he was. But he knew the reason the duded-up gambler had gotten continually more belligerent. Jess had won the last four hands, taking the last one with a huge bluff. And as the amounts bet increased with each hand, he had won the most money from the gambler directly across the table from him.
The man to Jess' left, placed a sizeable bet, and play continued to the dude, who kept his face as blank as Jess had.
"I'll see that. And raise twenty." With his eyes focused on Jess, he shoved some chips into the pot.
"Too rich for my blood." The fourth man laid his cards down. "I'm out."
"It's your bet, kid."
Jess didn't even glance at his cards. "Call." He pushed a stack of chips into the center of the table.
The dude smiled mockingly.
"And raise," Jess added, picking up another much taller stack of chips and settling them in the pile.
The man across the table from him narrowed his eyes.
The man on Jess's left shook his head. "Dang, mister, if you're bluffing again I'm sure gonna regret this." He tossed his cards face-down onto the table. "Fold."
Jess let a smile play at the corner of his mouth. "Well, what do ya think, Dandy? Am I bluffin'? You man enough to find out?"
The dude's eyes threw daggers at Jess; but then he broke into an enormous grin. "Kid, I'm gonna teach you a lesson you will never forget."
He pushed a matching large stack of chips to the pot. "Call."
Jess was calm as could be. "Show 'em."
The man laughed sardonically and loudly. "Read 'em and weep, kid!" He laid his cards out on the table for all to see. "Four aces."
The men surrounding the table, watching the game, erupted in applause and hoots and hollers as the aces player looked around at them pridefully. Gloating at Jess, he reached both hands toward the huge pile of chips in the center of the table.
Jess clamped his left hand on the man's right wrist.
"Ain't ya interested in what I'm holdin'?"
The dude jerked his arm away and rested both hands beside the chips, angrily glaring at the young man. But then he let the bad temper dissipate and laughed uproariously as he glanced around the saloon at the fascinated bystanders.
"Well, it looks like the kid here doesn't know as much about poker as he thinks he does. Which explains why he just made a couple of ridiculously large and stupid bets. So I'm gonna have to explain a few things to him."
The crowd laughed loudly.
Jess sat patiently.
The gambler turned back to him. "Here's how I knew you had to be bluffing again with that crazy raise, kid. You see, since there's no wilds in this game, there's only two poker hands that could beat four aces. A straight flush or a royal flush. Now, there was no chance for the royal, since I held all the aces. But even a straight flush is a rare beast, kid, and mighty hard to draw to. And every man here knows you couldn't have made it drawing three cards at your position of play."
Again, laughter surrounded the table as men nodded in agreement.
The noise settled down some, and with all eyes on him, Jess stared at the dude.
"Wanna place another bet? On that?" Jess' voice rumbled from deep in his chest.
He laid his hand out. "Hearts. Straight flush. King high."
Gasps and comments of awe sounded from everyone watching, or even listening to the action from across the room.
Fire burned in the eyes of the man who thought he had won the biggest pot of the day. "Nobody could be as lucky you've been for all five of these hands, kid," he growled. "And nobody in your place at the table could draw three cards to a hand like that!" He pointed furiously to Jess' cards. "You've been cheatin' all along."
Jess' fire matched the other man's. "I never cheat, mister! A little luck to go with the whole lotta skill I got─that's all I need."
He shoved the dude's hands away from the chips and stood up as he started to scoop his winnings toward the edge of the table.
The fancy-dressed man was embarrassed at the loss of the game, and absolutely enraged with the way the kid, with such cockiness and calm, had taken command of the situation.
"You're gonna pay for this, you cheatin' no-name kid."
At that, the gambler surged upward, knocking his chair back out of the way with his leg. Jess had barely straightened to his full height when the other man pulled his gun. In a flash, Jess reacted. The sound of the shot rang throughout the saloon.
The losing gambler lost once more.
Stunned silence overtook the entire saloon. No one made a sound, it seemed no one even breathed, as they gaped, thunderstruck, at the body on the floor.
The one staring with the most shock… was Jess Harper.
He had been in a couple of gunfights a few years back when he rode with Dixie Howard before he went to fight in the war. But he had only wounded those two men, just enough to take them down. This was the first time he had killed a man outside of the battles during the war and the Indian fights with Stanton and Jacobs.
He had been continuously practicing his draw and his accuracy with targets, bottles, cans, rocks… just about anything he could find. Preparing to get back to hunting the Bannisters soon, now that his time with the Union Army was completed. But he had never killed a man in a gunfight before. It gave him sort of a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He had not wanted this. His reaction to the man drawing on him was instinctual, pure self-preservation. And his reflexes had always been lightning fast. The recent weeks of practice had made them infallible.
His eyes were frozen on the hole in the man's chest.
A couple of the men near the table checked the fallen man. One of them, who had been a medic in the war, assured he was dead.
The saloon erupted again, this time in whispers of amazed praise of the card playing expertise and astonishingly quick draw of the young stranger.
A tall, hefty man with white hair, of about age sixty, stepped forward to stand in front of Jess, drawing his attention away from the dead man. Jess' eyes widened at the sight of the star on the man's chest.
"Don't worry. I'm not gonna arrest ya. I was over there at the bar. Saw the whole thing," the sheriff said. "No charges against you, fella. It was pure self-defense. We all saw him slap leather first. And sure as the sun's gonna rise tomorrow, he woulda killed you if he coulda got a shot off before you dropped him."
Shaking his head, the sheriff looked down at the body. "Never thought I'd see the day when somebody would outdraw him."
Jess looked at him questioningly.
"Blazes, boy. Don't you know who you just killed?"
"No."
"Why, you just beat the most well-known card sharp around. Beat him at his own game. And then you outdrew him. A man with a reputation as a fast gun and sharpshooter." The sheriff fixed a scowling eye at Jess. "You just outdrew Sharp McElroy."
Jess' jaw dropped. He immediately recognized the name. The man was a famous poker player and gunfighter. Jess had had no idea who he'd been playing cards with.
The sheriff ordered some men standing nearby to take McElroy's body to the undertaker. Then he turned back to Jess. "What's your name?"
"Jess Harper."
The name was quickly whispered from person to person through the large saloon.
Sheriff Parker stiffened, his frown deepening. "I remember hearing about you from before the war. Already working up a reputation that darn young. "
Jess ignored the comment. Still stunned, he stared at McElroy's body as the men gathered him up and carried him out the back door.
"Well, Jess Harper," Parker continued, "cash in your chips. Time for you to take your winnings and head out of town. A lot of folks in here'll know you're carrying a good sum of money. Plus, you're gonna have plenty of men talking about you and the way you make that sixgun dance. Some of them'll be talking in fear, some with respect. And some determined to try ya, to see if this was a fluke or if you really are always that good. Walk careful, boy."
Jess holstered his Colt and took a deep breath. Turning his attention back to the table, he raked the chips into his hat and headed to the counter to redeem them for cash. As he did, he heard the murmurs and felt all eyes on him.
The piano player started playing a snappy tune, and immediately the low voices turned to full-blown conversations as the liveliness of the saloon revived. The main topic discussed was the kid that outplayed and outdrew a legend.
Jess pocketed his money and was making his way carefully toward the front door when a man sidled up to him.
"Jess Harper. You're faster than payday poker, son," the man uttered in a jovial and low tone meant for Jess' ears only. "I know a man who could use a gun like yours."
Jess glared at the man. "Who are you, mister?"
"Name's Caulder. Ed Caulder. And if you're interested in earning some big money with that shootin' talent of yours, I can introduce you to a man who'll be glad to pay for it."
"I ain't interested."
"Well, I reckon we'll run into each other again one of these days. A man with a hand as fast as yours… and after what just happened here…you're gonna be using that draw and aim of yours a lot. Whether you want to or not. Maybe next time you see me, you'll be ready to accept that job I just offered you."
Jess brushed on past the man and and stalked outside. He stood for a while in the alley a few yards to the side of the saloon's entrance, leaning back against the building, trying to come to terms with how his life had just changed. When his time with the Union had ended a month ago, they kept Oak, of course, and gave him some old broken down mare so he would at least have some means of transportation. All he had wanted was to sit in on a few hands of poker and win enough to put with a trade of his current mount so he could buy himself a better horse. He couldn't have imagined things would turn out like this.
Standing in the shadows, he watched and listened as several pairs of men came from the saloon, each group of two talking about how to get the money from that kid who just won a bundle. The sheriff was right. He was a target. He'd have to be careful heading to the livery.
He scouted the street. It was fairly quiet for mid-afternoon on a weekday. But he had no sooner stepped out of the shadows and into the sunlight past the boardwalk when a voice challenged him.
"Harper! Let's see how good you really are."
Looking down the street, Jess saw a man his own age or slightly older, holster low, standing ready for a gunfight.
Jess' jaw muscles twitched, and without even thinking about it, his hand hovered over his gun. "I got no quarrel with you, mister."
"How could we have a quarrel? We don't even know each other. But I don't care nothin' about meetin' you anyway, Harper. Only your gun."
Just then the saloon's batwings burst open and Sheriff Parker stepped outside, gun drawn and pointed at the loudmouth down the street.
"Nobody wants to see the kinda show you want to put on, Zimmer. Holster that iron and go home before I haul you in."
Giving the lawman a look of contempt, Zimmer nevertheless obeyed the order and, with a final sneer at Jess, headed down a side street.
The sheriff turned to Jess. "Didn't take long, did it?"
"I never asked for this."
"Oh? I suppose you were just born drawing and firing a forty-five like that, huh?"
Jess saw no reason to explain to this badge toter why being a great shot was important to him. His mission to find the Bannisters was his own business.
"I told you how it'd be. I've seen this type of thing happen before." Parker holstered his own gun. "Where's your horse?"
Jess nodded to the palomino mare.
"Dang, Harper. How old is that nag?"
"That's why I was sittin' in on that game, Sheriff. Needed some money to git me a decent mount. I was headed for the livery when that sidewinder called me out."
The sheriff glanced up and down the street. "I'd best walk along with ya. Don't like gunfights in my town."
Looking scathingly at Jess, he grumbled, "And you're trouble, son."