Jess dug deep to enjoy the feel of the beautiful palomino beneath him and the brightness of the day as he reached the outskirts of Galveston. There was so much running through his mind but he was trying to focus and savor what he was sure was his last day.
It was about 15 years since he had last been to the city. It had grown to what seemed to be twice the size it had been then. But it smelled the same – the odor of salt water, dead fish, seaweed made him miss the crisp smells of Wyoming. The hot humid air was pushed over his skin from the bay by a languid breeze.
Even after all this time, he felt the emotions of that time rising up unbidden as if it were yesterday. He had just lost most of his family in the fire the Bannister gang had set to their house in the Panhandle a few weeks before. The grief hit hard once again. And the guilt. He had been unable to save his parents and the small children. Only he, one sister and one brother had made it out alive.
It hit harder because even Francie and Johnny were dead now. He had come with them to Galveston to leave them in the care of an aunt, a distant relative they barely knew. Jess had left them here – sometimes the word abandon crept into his head before he could banish it. The aunt didn't want him there, a near-grown boy and her a widow with a young daughter. She'd all but kicked him out. But Jess had also been determined to leave to find and kill the Bannister gang. Even if the aunt had welcomed him, he probably would have left. And that was the last time he had seen his brother and sister. Johnny had died of cholera during the war. Francie had written him about it in a letter. She didn't mention where he might be buried. Then he'd heard that Francie had died in a different epidemic. They had buried the dead from that one in a mass grave. There wasn't a marker for a single member of his family that he could visit.
His shoulders were bent even before his thoughts turned to the present. Maybe it's fittin' that I die here today, like Johnson said. I couldn't save my first family, left Francie and Johnny here to die. At least, when I join them today, I'll be doin' it to save my new family. Face grim, eyes haunted with memories, Jess led the horse towards the center of town, where he could hear the crowd cheering.
The horse jostled people on the ground as he guided it towards the stage. He felt a momentary flash of pride that he had trained it to be calmer, even in the middle of just a large number of people. With more time to train 'em, this'd be a fine mount. Almost as good as my Traveler.
Those folks close to him went quiet and tried to move as far away as possible in the throng. There were people of all colors, black, white, Asian, Indian mixed in. This is how it should'a been, Jess thought as he pushed the horse though. What they musta meant when they wrote "all men created equal, back in 1776. I hope they manage some day after I'm gone. Hope what I do today don't make it worse.
As he approached the front of the stage, the speaker also fell silent. The entire crowd now seemed focused on him, clear about the meaning of the uniform and the grim rider on the fancy horse.
"I'm looking for George Ruby, what thinks he can go up to the State House and make laws over the rest of us," Jess yelled as loud as he could, the gravel in his voice adding to the message. These were the words McCarthy had told him to repeat that morning over the small campfire. Jess knew the KLS were now massing outside of the city, ready to bring down terror on these people if he failed to follow through. He wasn't sure when they would kill him off, but Jess knew he had to make sure none of the townsfolk did it to give the KLS an excuse for massacre. His brow was furrowed and eyebrows drawn together in an arc as he continued to try to figure out how he could avert disaster here. But he'd wracked his brain for 2 weeks and hadn't yet been able to come up with anything. He'd just have to go through with it and hope he could react to whatever happened fast enough. Jess felt like he was at the bottom of a deep well and the walls were crumbling in.
The man who had been speaking stepped away from the podium. "I'm George Ruby," he announced in a clear voice that carried to the back of the gathered crowd. His tone was stentorian and a bit imperious, like someone who was used to being listened to. "What do you want?"
Ruby couldn't have been more than 25-year-old to Jess' eye, tall, slender, carrying himself with a confidence that belied his years. His hair was slicked down on top, less on the sides and he had a full moustache with long sideburns. Sort a same style as Johnson, Jess thought to himself with an inner smirk. His large brown eyes were clear though, completely lacking in the corruption Jess had come to expect from Johnson. Deliberately, keeping his arms out to the sides, Ruby stepped to the edge of the stage.
"What do I want?" Jess repeated with a fake sneer, "I want you to face me like a man, right here and right now."
"As you can see, I am unarmed. I am also unaccustomed to this habit of gunning each other in the street," replied Ruby.
"You can get a gun easy enough." Turning to the crowd, Jess raised his voice, "Who's goin' lend George Ruby a side arm? He ain't gonna need it for long."
Ruby raised his right arm, "That won't be necessary."
Jess turned back to him, "We're goin' to settle this. Now." He growled.
"Not to worry, I have a champion, much like you are the champion of a larger organization and a smaller man, are you not, Harper?" Ruby gestured with his raised hand. Jamie stepped out of the crowd into the street.
Jess dismounted, in part to give himself time to think. He knew Jamie was a good shot and would wound or kill Jess depending on whatever plan this was he'd cooked up. At this point, that didn't really matter to Jess. What worried him was what Johnson would do if Ruby wouldn't face him. Would they just ride in regardless of the gunfight? Seemed like that would ruin their plan of acting like it was self-defense. Would they hurt his family?
"What are you doin' here? This don't concern you. Give that gun to Ruby so's he and I can get on with this." Jess growled as much to stall for time to think as to get an answer.
"I'm here to represent George Ruby. His champion like he said. You and the KLS don't get to set the rules anymore," Jamie answered in his calm voice, audible to those that surrounded the 3 principal players.
"You ready to die here? 'Cause that's all you'll do. You and anyone else who stands for Ruby until there's no one left and he has to stand hisself."
Jamie's answer came in the same even tone, "Are you?"
"I'm ready to die here." Jess' voice was lower, barely audible but resignation was clear in the slump of his shoulders. Jess shifted his eyes towards Ruby in a last attempt to make things go Johnson's way. He knew Johnson would kill him no matter what but if he followed the plan, he could still hope his family would be spared. He'd have to hit Johnson somewhere but with his lack of experience, Jess figured he'd have time to place a bullet well. "You want this man and any others that follow him to die for you, Ruby? Are you worth all that?"
"No, I don't suppose I am worth it. But the freedom these people longed for all their lives will not be taken away at the hands of you thugs. I represent that freedom here today." Replied Ruby, getting applause from at least half the crowd.
Jess' initial positive impression of Ruby dimmed a bit, "You sound just like every other politician, willing to let others do your fightin'." Jess shifted his gaze back to Jamie and started to move back to a gunfighter's distance. "Have it your way," he muttered.
"Jess," Jamie spoke in a low voice that barely carried to him, "trust us. Trust our plan."
Puzzlement was clear on Jess' face as he continued to back away. The crown parted behind the two as they assumed their stances. Jess was waiting for Jamie to draw when he saw a gunman on a roof behind him step away from the fake store front with rifle raised. He drew his side arm, paying no attention to whether or not Jamie had drawn, dropped to one knee and fired 2 shots at the man on the roof who fell into the street. From the corner of his eye, he was shocked to see Jamie pull his weapon, sure that he would soon be feeling the impact of lead from a friend. Former friend. He heard 2 shots from Jamie's gun but felt nothing as he swung his sidearm around, ready to put an end to it. But Jamie's gun was not pointed at Jess, it was aimed above and behind him. Jess froze trying to figure out what had happened.
"Thought someone should watch your back, Jess." Jamie said in the same low voice, waving his pistol behind Jess. Jess hazarded a glance behind him, keeping Jamie in his peripheral vision and his gun aimed in that direction. A body lay beneath a store awning, rifle still clasped in his hand. "Looks like they was aimin' to do our shootin' for us," Jamie continued.
"I still gotta face Ruby, Jamie. I told you why." Jess managed to get out through clenched teeth.
"You won't be able to do that. You're under arrest for killing that guy back there," Jamie replied tilting his head towards the man Jess had shot as he walked in Jess direction, gun still in hand but held loosely to his side. By now he was at Jess' side, holding his left hand out for Jess' gun.
As he rose from his knee, Jess hissed, "I told you, you arrest me, they'll ride in here claiming self-defense. Ya gotta let me go."
"Trust the plan, Jess. We'll tell you about it in the sheriff's office." Jamie was leaning into Jess to take his side arm. Jess almost didn't hear what followed, "Slim sends his regards."
Jamie took the gun from a hand gone limp and steered Jess towards the sheriff's office. Once inside, Jess heard a familiar voice, "Jess, I've seen you in better shape after a month on the trail and a bullet wound. Can't stay out of trouble, can ya'?"
"Trim! Trim Stuart! Jamie, you got in touch!" For the first time in what felt like years, Jess felt a weight lift off his shoulders. "But you don't understand, there must be 50 men outside of town, ready to ride in here and start shooting anything that moves. They been hopin' for a massacre for weeks. Ya just handed them the excuse."
"Thanks to you, Jess, we did know that. And we're ready. Samuel let us know this morning where they were and how many. Every man and lots of women in town are armed and ready." Trim explained.
"And I taught them how to shoot, Jess." Said Jamie with a smile and a wink.
"That and we've got the calvary from the fort standing by." Trim went on, "We have to let the KLS ride in and start shooting, but the minute they do, they'll be rounded up and prosecuted. By the way, Samuel told us that Johnson and McCarthy are both planning to ride in with them. Seems they been looking forward to this all along. Not sure we can get the leaders of the KLS that Ok'ed this plan, unless you've seen 'em, Jess, but at least this bunch will go away for a long time."
"Samuel? He sure had me fooled. Didn't think I could trust him to send messages or anything." Jess straightened in surprise.
"Yeah," Jamie put in, "He wasn't sure if he should tell you, either. Trust don't come easy to him. So, he just watched and listened."
"But Slim, Daisy and Mike, if their spies don't get a wire from these guys, they'll harm them. I gotta get word back to Laramie." Jess let his biggest concern surface.
"Nah," Jamie scoffed, "the sheriff here got a wire this morning that the 2 were identified. Mort is standing by to arrest them for conspiracy once we get this bunch under wraps. Their wires were all coded, but the lawyers think it's clear enough what was goin' on for any jury to convict 'em."
"There's one more thing, though, Jess and you ain't gonna like it," Trim continued his eyes down. "Unless you're sure that they'll come in shooting just on the basis of your arrest, there's one more act to this play we gotta put on. We have a group that agreed to pretend," here he hesitated, then plunged on, "to pretend to lynch you. We weren't sure if they'd be expecting a trial or what. We don't want to wait too long to spring the trap. Do you think they'll come ahead or do we need to go through with this?"
Jess sat heavily in the nearest chair. The initial relief knowing that there was a way out seemed a distant memory already. Having a noose around your neck wasn't something a man forgets easily. It'd already happened to him more than once and the experiences haunted his nightmares. He wasn't sure that even knowing it was being faked would ease the panic. But, neither was he sure the KLS would come in on the basis of him being escorted to the sheriff's office. This was better finished. Just add one more thing to the nightmares, Jess thought with a shrug. "You're right, Trim. It ain't a sure thing yet. We'd better hurry it along while we're ready."
There was a pause while everyone took this in. "But one thing – I can't stand to wear this damned uniform one more second. Has anyone got a shirt I can borrow for the next act? My undervest is so bad torn, even I can't wear it in public." Jess said, attempting a bit of humor.
The sheriff opened a desk drawer, "I got a spare I keep here, in case I gotta change. This might be a bit large, but it'll cover you." He handed over a checked shirt that, indeed, looked to be about 5 sizes too big.
There was nowhere to go to change, no direction to turn, so Jess took a breath and stood to relieve himself of the hated uniform. He threw the hat in the basket that looked like it was for trash and unbuttoned the jacket. One more deep breath and he shrugged out of it, while reaching for the shirt. Jamie was standing behind him and hissed. The undervest was, indeed, in shreds, looking like it had been torn from Jess' back multiple times and repaired by an inexpert hand. Parts of Jess' back could be seen through the holes and Jamie could make out the clear stripes of recent whipping. From what he could see, several were healing, others red and swollen. He knew lash marks well from both victim and healer side. He also took in the bandage wrapped around his waist and guessed it was the wound Jess took in Welling. Trim looked over at the sound, but Jamie just looked away. Up to Jess if he wanted to let them know.
By now, Jess was buttoning up the too big shirt. Jamie reached for the uniform jacket. "We can use this somehow in the mob." It was his job to run out of the office and to the saloon where the "actors" were waiting.
With much noise and banging, the pretend mob was back in 30 minutes, waving the uniform jacket, torn and muddied, on a pole like a flag. They broke down the sheriff's door. Trim and the sheriff had already tied Jess' hands loosely in front of him to save time.
Jess didn't have to feign reluctance as they dragged him out onto the boardwalk. The first thing he noticed was a crowd down the street around trestle tables that had been set up for the celebration. Jamie was at his elbow, one fist in the air, pretending to yell with the rest as they headed towards the west end of town where a large tree was chosen. Jess jerked his elbow down, so he was angled towards Jamie, "What's going on? All those people on the street are gonna get cut down, first thing?" he hissed.
"Look careful, Jess. They're all men, they got guns under the tables and they're mostly waitin'. With some eatin'. Told you we're ready." Jamie replied quietly while pretending to be a mob leader.
As they got closer to the tree where the noose was already dangling, Jess didn't have to pretend to panic and resist. He gave into his inner turmoil and twisted and turned in the arms of his captors. The roar of rushing blood in his ears was by now louder than the roar of the lynch mob. He almost missed the sound of galloping horses as it mixed into the background. That registered fully just as they reached the horse that was intended for the lynching. Gunshots were starting as Jamie and the man to the other side pulled Jess to the ground.
"Damn knot," Jamie muttered, "You'd think Trim meant it," pulling at the ropes that bound Jess. When he finally had Jess free, he handed over a gun and both started firing at the approaching riders. They could hear more shots ringing from behind them.
The raiders pulled back for a split second when they registered the resistance, but resumed their charge. They burst through the first line of defense and were headed down the main street with at least two groups of defenders shooting from street level, second story windows and behind fake fronts. Jess caught a glimpse of Jamie as he dived behind a trough. On the other side, Jess saw Samuel who gave him a silent nod. Jess was almost sure he caught a glimpse of George Ruby shooting out of the hotel second floor. Rifles jutted out from the windows of the sheriff's office. Raiders were laid out on the streets or diving off their horses to take defensive positions behind anything they could find. Still more KLS were pouring in from the edges of town.
That's when they heard the most welcome sound of all – the calvary bugle. From both sides of the main street and every alley way, they could hear the sounds of answering calls. Seems they surrounded the town and were coming in from all sides to prevent any escape.
Shooting became increasingly sporatic until finally all guns were silent. A couple of hours of chaos followed as raiders were distinguished from white townsfolk who helped in the defense, but finally all the raiders were rounded up into a corral at the edge of town, guarded by Buffalo soldiers who made up just one of the units assigned to the defense of Galveston.
Jess was slumped in a chair in front of the sheriff's office. Samuel had brought him his own clothes and hat, but declined to take the unform back with him, giving Jess the closest thing to a smile he owned.
Jess decided to let the relief and weariness wash over him, chair leaning on back legs, head back against the wall, hat pulled over eyes. Trim walked over from the telegraph office and handed him a flimsy. "We sent word to Laramie that we had rounded up everyone. They got those 2 who were watching your family. Thought you'd like to see this right away."
Jess pulled his head away from the wall and lifted his hat as he took the paper, a small smile playing on his lips. "All's well at home. Daisy cooking up a storm for your return. Mike has fishing poles ready. Work piling up. Kind regards, Slim." His smile grew as he leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. Penny-pinchin' Slim Sherman had gone all out spendin' that much on extra words. "That's good, Trim," he said quietly.
"The celebration is startin' up again, Jess. Say they aren't goin' let the KLS ruin their day. They call it Juneteenth for some reason. George Ruby has asked us special to join him at his table."
"Not so sure I'm welcome, Trim. I may not be in legal trouble, but I helped those sidewinders, shot 3 good men, helped 'em raise money and recruits. I ain't proud 'a what I done, even with my reasons. I sure wouldn't be forgivin' enough to share my table so fast."
Trim settled in the chair next to Jess, pushing it up on 2 legs as well.
Trim always one for taking his ease at the least chance, thought Jess fondly, even when I was fussin' at 'im to get on when we was after Bannister.
"Here's the thing, Jess," began Trim, "everybody does know that you were forced into this. Just like everybody knows you're good enough a gun to have killed those men instead of just woundin' 'em."
"Oh yeah" Jess interjected, "this has probably ruined my reputation. Ain't gonna get no respect here on out. No more elbow room at the table." The smile was apparent in his voice from under his hat.
"I know you ain't worried about your rep," scoffed Trim. "Anyhow, Ruby was sayin' as how if the KLS didn't find you and force you to do this, they might'a eventually found someone who believed in their cause and killed those men. Or maybe they'd'a come up with a different plan. Point is, you saved those men's lives and by lettin' us know what they were plannin' and when, they'll all be where they can't do no harm for a long time. Maybe this'll even scare off the KLS leaders so they won't be tryin' again. You're a good man put in a bad situation and makin' the best of it. Everyone here knows that. You're comin' to dinner."
Jess sighed in resignation.
"Oh, but not everybody knows you're on the right side 'a this. After the trial – they figure next Monday for Johnson, McCarthy and the other leaders – the Buffalo soldiers will be escortin' you as far as Kansas. They have to report up to North Dakota anyhow, poor sods, just to be sure. Those pamphlets got as far as any wanted poster on you ever has."
"Great" replied Jess tiredly without looking up. He let the legs of the chair drop and pushed his hat back to its normal position. "Well, let's get this over with. I'm looking forward to some sleep in a real bed." He grinned over at Trim knowing how much Trim appreciated beds.
"Before you go, doc wants to see you. Jamie was telling him something about you gettin' wounded along the way. And I was wonderin' if you wanted to visit the lock up and give a greetin' to Johnson and McCarthy before they're taken to the fort tomorrow?"
Jess had risen stiffly from the chair, "It's nothin', Trim. They had a doc look after me. Needed me to put on a good show." He winked over at Trim. Jess paused for a moment, thinking about whether or not he wanted to go make Johnson and McCarthy eat some teeth. "And ya know, maybe I'm gettin' old, but I just don't want to see those 2 ever again."
Trim had heard all that Jamie had reported to the doc, but knew how stubborn Jess could be about wounds. When Jess was about to step off the boardwalk, Trim deliberately slapped him on the back where he knew the whip marks would most likely be. "Sure, Jess, you're just fine. Gettin' a bit old and settled, but just fine."
Jess flinched away, but tilted up a smirk at Trim from under his hat. "Sure am, Trim. Let's get some food. I do believe I've worked up an appetite. Suppose they got any apple pie?" and sauntered towards the celebration.
Jess was indeed made to feel welcome by Ruby and all at the celebration. He felt some of the guilt ease as the conversation flowed back and forth. Details of the planning and coordination with the calvary were shared across the table, but Jess felt himself fading out, his focus shifting to Wyoming.
"All's well at home. Daisy cooking up a storm for your return. Mike has fishing poles ready. Work piling up. Kind regards" At 5 to 10 cents a word, Slim was sure throwing caution to the wind.