The next afternoon, Ezra Baker headed to the saloon in town. Bowing to Dr Garrett's admonition to take things easy, he used the carriage, rather than riding his horse, to keep the jostling to a minimum.
The saloon was moderately busy as Ezra came in, with no one taking notice of him. He took a stool at the side of the bar, hoping to eventually get the bartender's attention. He was content to wait, as it was important that no one overheard him asking the bartender about hired guns.
After a few moments, the bartender came over to him. "What'll it be, Mr Baker?"
"Whiskey." After a pause, he added in a quieter voice, "I've heard that you might know where I could find a man who could make a problem I have…go away permanently."
"Yes, I know such a man," the bartender affirmed. "But I haven't seen him in some time. It may be awhile before I can send him your way."
"That's all right," Ezra replied. "I'm a patient man."
Three weeks later, Angel Eyes came to Cactus Flats to see his son. He'd just finished a complicated job and could also use a bit of a rest before heading home to Anna.
On his second day there, he went into town to relax and have a few drinks in the saloon. As was his habit, he took his place at the bar, away from others. He much preferred to observe, rather than participate in the goings-on in the establishment.
The bartender came right over when he saw the hired killer.
"How's it going, Horace?" Angel Eyes greeted. "I'll have a whiskey."
"Coming right up."
When the bartender returned with the drink, he leaned close and said in a soft voice, "I've got a possible new job for you."
"I'm listening."
"Old man named Baker came in here 'bout three weeks ago and asked if I knew of someone in your line of work," Horace told him. "I told him I did, but that it might be a few weeks before you could get back to him. He told me it was all right because he was a patient man."
"Did he tell you why he wanted to hire me?" The other man said.
"No, he just he needed a permanent solution to a problem he had," the bartender reported. After a moment he added, "He's a local who lives on the outskirts of town and mostly keeps to himself."
Angel Eyes thought for a moment before replying. He sounded legit - he didn't tell the details of the job to the bartender. And his willingness to wait indicated that he wasn't desperate.
"All right," he said. "Where can I find this man?"
"He lives alone in a wood frame cottage on the southwest outskirts of town," the bartender told him. "He's there most of the time."
The hired gun left the saloon a short time later and headed directly for Ezra Baker's small home. As he tied his horse at the hitching post, he noted the home looked shabby, in need of repairs. He almost got back on his horse to leave, figuring the man couldn't afford to pay him, but decided to at least hear what the man had to say. He'd learned over the years that appearances could sometimes be deceiving.
After he knocked on the door, there was a long interval before he heard someone slowly shuffling his way
Ezra Baker had been in the back of the house when he heard the authoritative knock. Today had been a bad day, so he took his time answering. As he opened the door, he did a double take when he saw the intimidating looking man standing there.
"I'm Angel Eyes. Horace at the saloon said you might have need of my services," Angel Eyes stated in response to the older man's quizzical expression.
"Oh, yes, of course," Baker said, opening the door wider. "Come in."
The old man led the hired gun into the kitchen where he offered him coffee. Once the two men were seated at the table, Angel Eyes got straight to the point. "Who do you need eliminated and how much are you willing to pay?"
"It's an old army buddy," Baker began. "We were in the Confederate army together until I was sent home for getting consumption." He had a long coughing fit, as if the prove the truth of his words After a moment, he continued, "Stevens, the target, left the army shortly after me, with a bum leg. He's up in age, too.
"Get on with it." Angel Eyes hated long winded tales.
"Anyway, there were three of us friends, and we'd made a deal to keep something secret. The third man, Jackson, had disappeared…"
"Never mind all that," the hired gun snapped. "Tell me exactly what you need done and how much you'll pay me."
"I need you to find out from Stevens the name that Jackson is going under now and then eliminate Stevens after you get the name. I'll pay you five hundred bucks to do it."
Angel Eyes raised an eyebrow at this. "What makes you think Stevens had this information." Looking around the shabby house, he added, "And you'll have to prove you have the five hundred bucks first."
"I had another army friend visit me who told me Jackson recently visited Stevens after being out of sight for awhile," Ezra explained. "I need to know what they talked about, as well as Jackson's new name."
The old man then reached into a pocket and showed the gunman the money. "After doing the job you'll get this."
"All right," the other man said slowly. "I'll do it. Just tell me more about Stevens and where I can find him."
Ezra Baker gave him all the information necessary to do the job. He stood up carefully then. He was tired and needed a nap.
"I'll be back," the hired gun said as he made his way to the door. "Be ready with the money."
"Count on it," the old man replied. He knew if he reneged on the agreement Angel Eyes would kill him.
Angel Eyes headed back to Lee and Emma after concluding business with Ezra Baker. He was in no hurry to get started on this job and intended to stay the amount of time he'd originally planned on with Lee. He'd not spent much time with his son in recent months and he wanted to make up for that.
There was plenty of time to get the job done and he'd get to it, after having a good visit with the now six year old Lee. At six, Lee was able to do a lot more things they both could enjoy.
On this visit, he had an especially good time with his son. They took an overnight fishing trip, now that Lee was able to confidently ride a horse.
They sat talking around the campfire talking after a supper of fish. Angel Eyes smoked his pipe as he contentedly listened to his son's chatter.
He was suddenly brought out of his reverie when Lee stated, "Daddy, I wish you were home more often. I hardly ever see you these days."
"I'm sorry son, but my work has been keeping me busier recently," he told the small boy, patting him on the back. "But we always have fun when I'm here, don't we?"
"I'm having fun," the boy assured him with a smile. "But I wish you had a job in town like Grandpa, so I could see you every day." After a moment, he gave his father a hug and said, "I love you Daddy."
"I love you, too, Lee," Angel Eyes replied, as the boy climbed onto his lap, sleepiness now claiming him.
He put the boy down in his bedroll a short time later, then returned to the campfire and his own thoughts. As he watched his son sleep, he wondered if he looked like that as a kid, and was grateful yet again that Lee was growing up in a better home than he did.