Summary: Have you ever wondered why Joe is such a good shot? Maybe that’s how it happened.

Rating: PG    Word Count: 15000

Guilt

Chapter 1

“Where do you think you’re going?” Adam stopped Lottie and me at the barn door by grabbing my upper arm.

“The music’s so loud and the air stuffy. I have a headache and need to cool off a bit!” The girl who clung to my left arm gave Adam an innocent look out of her big, sky-blue eyes. She ran her fingers through her mane of wheat-blonde hair, tied back with a silk ribbon that matched her light blue dress. I would have thought she was flirting with my oldest brother if she weren’t my date.

A dimple appeared on his left cheek as he fell for her charms. “All right, you’ve got ten minutes. Mind your manners, Little Brother!” Adam grinned at me, poking his finger into my chest.

I rolled my eyes, sweeping away his hand. “Sure!”

Side by side, Lottie and I strolled down Virginia City’s C Street through the still-warm evening.

“A beautiful night!” Smiling, I enjoyed her soft body touching mine as we left the brightly lit barn behind us. Millions of stars twinkled in the night sky while the sounds of people clapping, boots stomping, and the fiddler duo faded.

“Kiss me,” Lottie demanded as she stopped, pulling me around to face her.

“You don’t have to tell me twice!” I cupped her heart-shaped face and lowered my lips to her full ones, as soft and sweet as peaches. The clean scent of her skin made me drunk. How Charlotta, or Lottie as she liked to be called, leaned herself close to me told me more than words.

“You’re the most handsome cowboy I know. My friends envy me. That dark blue suit makes you look like a real gentleman.”

“I am a gentleman!” My tone was teasing, but I realized my pants tightened, not at all gentlemanly, as lush, soft breasts pressed against my chest and her pelvis against my hips. “Uh, we shouldn’t do this,” I said, my voice raspy with excitement. Embarrassed, I brought a bit of distance between us, struggling for breath. “I promised your parents I’d behave myself.”

“I didn’t promise anything.” Lottie giggled and tugged at my shirt, trying to undo another button.

“Don’t. Your reputation …”

“Relax. It’s dark. Nobody can see us. And if you destroy my reputation, we’ll have to get married. That wouldn’t be so bad, right?”

One more button was undone, and a soft hand slipped into my shirt, sending goosebumps all over my torso. Still, I held my ground. “We’ve seen each other three times. It’s pretty early to talk about weddings. I just turned seventeen, and you ain’t much older. We should go slow.” Pa would be proud of me for acting so reasonably.

Lottie pouted. “People get married a lot younger.”

The way the girl had her hand inside my shirt and caressed my bare chest made me guess it wasn’t the first time she’d done that, but I didn’t mind. Even though I’d never been with a woman, I wasn’t completely naïve either. I wanted nothing more than to tear that pretty cotton dress off her body and take her right here on the wooden sidewalk in front of the barbershop.

Could Lottie read my mind? While she trailed one hand over my stomach and belt, she tangled her other in my hair and pulled my head down for another deep kiss. “Little Joe, you’re too decent. I don’t want to take it slow,” she whispered against the corner of my mouth, her warm breath brushing my cheek. “I can feel how excited you are. I want …”

The clearing of a throat scared us apart. I gasped, feeling my face glow. Good thing it was dark.

“It’s time to go home.”

I shot my oldest brother a piercing look. “Thanks a lot, Adam. You have an uncanny sense of timing!”

My voice sounded indignant, but in truth, I was relieved. Who knew where this would have gone?

“That’s the job of big brothers.”

 

Chapter 2

One week later, Lottie and I walked down the main street. The rain had washed the dust out of the air, leaving a smell of spring, damp earth, and fresh grass. Having a beer at the Silver Dollar, my brothers would breathe in the stench of unwashed bodies and cheap cigars instead. Although I enjoyed visiting saloons, I wouldn’t have traded places with them for anything in the world.

Heavy clouds still filled the sky, creating a gray twilight over the town. Lottie hooked her arm into my elbow bend, her curvy body radiating inviting warmth. The fragrant water she used, lemon verbena, tickled my nose and made me sneeze. I was glad for the newly built sidewalk. It echoed loud beneath our footsteps but protected us from the mud puddles and horse manure littering the road. I glanced at the stained hem of Lottie’s dress, dragging over the damp wood, but she didn’t care. Her attention was fixed on me. She appeared excited.

“I wonder if the food at this new restaurant is as delicious as they say,” Lottie purred as we turned into the side street that led to the place. Unlike the busy main road, it was deserted.

“The cook’s French. I heard they pour wine into the food. Would you be up for an experiment?”

The girl’s delighted giggle sent a honey-sweet surge of happiness through me. Lottie was special. She was cheeky, adventurous, and often not ladylike, and I loved it. “I’m very daring.” The emphasis on the words and the gaze she gave me told me she wasn’t just talking about food. Heat built up inside me, concentrating as a blazing ball in my lower regions.

“Hey, fella! That’s my girl!”

The call made me jump. I felt Lottie tense beside me. My eyes strained to penetrate the dusk. A huge figure emerged from behind a building. The light of a cigarette cast a brief glow on his face, but that was all I could see, for his hat was pulled down low. The girl’s grip on my arm tightened.

“Get outta here. Lottie’s with me.” My voice was firm. It took more than one man to scare me. When you’re young, you don’t know fear. I took a threatening step forward, pushing Lottie behind me.

The man’s right hand brushed over his gun, almost tenderly. I heard the smile in his voice. He sounded confident as well. “Either you let me have her, or I’ll take her by force.”

The .44 at my side made me feel safe. I even carried it on dates because the growing city attracted all kinds of thugs. Not wanting to put my girl in danger, I shielded her with my body. I didn’t want to start a shootout, but I also wouldn’t let him have her without fighting.

The fella mistook my hesitation for fear. A harsh laugh rolled toward us. “The boy’s scared!” He stretched and flexed his fingers, making them supple. “Draw! I even give you a head start.”

“No! Don’t shoot!” The girl broke away from me and made a few steps toward the man, her voice frantic and upset. “I’ll go with you, but leave Joe alone!”

Lottie dodged me when I tried to catch her arm to hold her back. “Darling, no!” My veins coursed with hot blood, leaving a deafening roar in my ears, and my heart pounded like crazy in my ribcage. I had no choice. A split second after mine, the stranger’s hand twitched downward, closing around the pistol. My gun didn’t come out smoothly. A deafening shot shattered the night. It felt like a hammer was driven into my chest. I reeled from the blow.

Lottie cried, “Oh God!”

My legs buckled. I slipped off the sidewalk onto the muddy street. Breathing was impossible. Crippling pain nailed me to my back. My heart was in a frenzy, and my legs felt heavy and numb. I was dying.

Two people struggled with each other, and I heard Lotti’s shrill scream and the man’s growling voice. The fabric of her dress, with its lingering whiff of perfume, was dragged across my face and outstretched hand. Cotton whispered through my useless fingers. I caught a glimpse of a bushy mustache lit by the cigarette. A horse snorted, and hoofbeats were lost in the darkness.

My gaze searched the ink-black sky. Tears formed in my eyes, blurring the few bright stars blinking through the clouds. I’d die alone on a deserted road in the dirt. Where the hell were my brothers? The Silver Dollar was only a few hundred feet as the crow flies, but they might as well have been miles away. They usually showed up at the worst possible moments. But now, when I needed them …

I always wondered if dying would hurt. The pain was terrible but not as bad as I’d expected. Cold, sticky blood soaked my entire backside. “I’m sorry,” my lips formed without a sound. I was sorry, I couldn’t protect Lottie. Sorry that I wasn’t a better brother for Adam and that my death would cause Pa so much grief.

Finally, acceptance came. Dead is a part of life. I let go.

 

“Little Joe?”

The urgent voice and a touch on my shoulder brought me back from the quiet and peaceful void. Squeezed in an unyielding iron cuff, my chest hurt like hell. My mouth opened and closed in a futile attempt to speak.

“Hoss, go get a lantern! I can’t see a thing!”

“Adam,” I breathed. “Where …?”

“Don’t talk. We heard the gunshot. Someone yelled that a young man had been shot. Lie still. Where are you hit?”

Instead of answering, I felt for the constricting iron ring but found a hairy forearm. Adam fumbled with my shirt. The cool night air’s fingers brushed my exposed skin, causing goosebumps to travel over my torso.

“Stay with me, Joe. Open your eyes! Where the heck’s Hoss?”

“I’m right here.”

Accustomed to obeying Adam’s commands, I squinted against the blinding lantern.

“Where did that slug get him?” Hoss’ voice was hoarse with worry, his eyes two huge blue lakes in his round face.

“I’ve no idea. I can’t find blood.”

“Chest,” I whispered, trying to read how bad it was from my brothers’ faces. Adam still probed my ribcage while Hoss leaned over me, illuminating the scene with the restless flickering lantern.

“I’m cold,” I muttered, moving my legs.

“That ain’t no surprise. You’re lying in a puddle.” Hoss’s arm snaked under my back and pulled me against his chest. With a smacking sound, the mud released me. A soothing scent of leather and body warmth enveloped me as my brother held me tight. “Dadburnit, Little Joe,” Hoss whispered close to my ear, and his shaky voice struck me.

“Look!” Adam sounded both surprised and relieved.

My eyeballs twitched back and forth, following the object that dangled before my face like the pendulum of a clock. It was barely recognizable as my medallion, dented and deformed as it was.

“The bullet hit your locket. Good thing you always carry it with you. You’ll have a hell of a bruise, but there’s no wound.”

I felt my chest and winced, still dazed and unable to believe I was alive. The iron cuff was gone, and I could breathe more easily. “Lottie! Where’s Lottie?” I tried to get up.

“Monsieur put the woman on a horse and rode away,” explained a man with a French accent, dressed like a waiter, standing a few feet away.

“I have to go after them! I must find her! I promised her parents I’d take care of her!” My feeble attempts to free myself from Hoss’ grip were doomed.

Adam gave me a stern look. “Joe, you’re going nowhere but back to the ranch. You belong in bed.”

“Adam’s right. We’ll tell the Sheriff, but going after this fella at night doesn’t make sense. You know him?”

“No. He was big with a heavy mustache. It was too dark to see more. I have to tell Lottie’s parents what happened.”

“I’ll take care of it. Hoss, you bring him home.”

“No, I have to … ”

Ignoring my protest, Hoss pulled me toward Cochise, one arm wrapped around my waist. “Come on, Joe, you ain’t give me no trouble.”

 

I was glad Pa was asleep when Hoss helped me up the stairs. I wasn’t in the mood to answer questions. My brother led me to my room and removed my boots after I dropped backward onto the bed. My gaze drifted across the wooden ceiling where the knotholes stared down at me. “I was responsible for Lottie, and I should have protected her. If I’d just pulled a little faster.”

“You’re a good shot. It ain’t your fault.”

“I could have beaten him if I’d been better.”

“We’ll find him tomorrow. You get some sleep.” Hoss gave me a reassuring nod, tousled my hair, and stood. “Night, Shortshanks.”

“Night.”

I bit my lip to stifle a groan as I slipped out of my jacket and shirt. A blue-black bruise blossomed in the center of my chest, outlining the locket. I ran my fingertips over my ribs. They’d be sore for a couple of days but didn’t feel like they were broken.

“You saved my life,” I muttered, picking up the locket Hoss had placed on my nightstand. I rubbed my thumb over the embedded, deformed lead lump, tracing the contours, then tried to open it, but it was too twisted.

Although I was exhausted, sleep wouldn’t come. My thoughts mulled around the kidnapping. Did Lottie know the man? Why else would he say she was his girl? Was she alright? Would he harm her? How could I ever face Lottie’s parents again?

I briefly toyed with sneaking out of the house and riding back to town, but Adam was right. I wasn’t in a physical condition for it. Though I’d tried not to let on, the trip home had been bad enough, and the thought of mounting a horse again made me cringe.

 

Chapter 3

I tossed and turned half the night, my ribcage aching, preventing me from finding a comfortable position. Just as I’d drifted asleep, a persistent hand on my shoulder shook me awake.

“Leave me alone!” I grumbled, turning my back.

“Joseph! Wake up!”

“Tired.” I tried to push the disturbing hand away, but Pa stood firm. He wouldn’t leave until he was sure I was all right. With a groan, I opened my eyes, grainy from lack of sleep.

“Good morning. Your brothers filled me in. How do you feel?”

Stiff and sore, but my pride hurt more than my body, was the truth. “I’m fine.”

Pa put the back of his hand on my forehead as if checking for a fever. The worry in his eyes was apparent. “You should see a doctor.”

“It’s just a bruise.”

“May I take a look?” My father reached for my covers.

I pulled a grimace. “Pa!”

“All right, then. I believe you. Can you make it down for breakfast, or do you want Hop Sing to bring you a tray?”

“No, I can manage. I’ll get dressed as soon as you get out of here.”

Pa took the hint. With a smile, he left the room.

I was an adult and doing a man’s work every day. Why did Pa treat me like I was still a schoolboy? This would probably never change. I tossed the covers back and stood up with a sigh.

When I went downstairs, my brothers had already left. With deliberate movements, I lowered myself into the chair under Pa’s watchful eyes. I forced a smile, not willing to show how sore I felt.

Pa knew anyway. He forbade me to ride into town or to ride at all. So, I tried to find light tasks, like mucking out stalls, cleaning out the tack room, and tending to the horses. I didn’t want to sit on the settee and brood all day.

Morning light filtered through the cracks between the barn’s boards, making the piled straw shimmer in rich gold. Dust flakes danced in the rays. The hay stacked in the loft smelled sweet, reminding me of summer. A smile came to my face at the familiar murmur and snort of contented horses, but it faded when Lottie came to my mind. Well, doing some chores would distract me. ‘There’s nothing like a few hard hours of genuine work to set your head straight,’ Pa would say.

When I took a deep breath or moved too fast, a sharp pain would shoot up my ribs, and my heart stumbled from time to time, aftereffects of the violent blow to the chest, I thought. But it didn’t bother me. I took things slow, and the ache told me I was still alive.

As the evening drew near, I looked around, satisfied with my work. The barn was tidy. The pitchforks and rakes were neatly lined on the wall, and the tack was greased and polished. I’d almost managed to put my worries about my girl out of my mind, but they returned with a vengeance when Adam and Hoss rode into the yard. My heart beat hard and fast, and a lump formed in my throat.

“What about Lottie?” I shouted to them instead of a greeting. My brothers’ downcast faces confirmed my fears. “You didn’t find her, did you?”

Adam shook his head. He looked beat as he slid off Sport, leading his horse past me into the barn. Hoss wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “No. There were some tracks, but I lost them on rocky ground. Roy put together a posse. We searched a bunch of empty houses, barns, and shacks around town, but we ain’t found nothing.”

Adam pulled the saddle off Sport and reached for the brush. I took it out of his hand. “Clean yourself up. I rub down your horses. You look tired.”

“Thanks.”

 

Chapter 4

My head was stuffed with musings about the reason for the kidnapping and what else I could do to find Lottie. I tried hard to believe she was still alive, although it had been over a week since she disappeared.

The ranch didn’t run itself, though. I had to concentrate and pull my weight. Fences had to be mended, strays rounded up, and horses to be broken. Without my head really being in the game, my hands did the tasks on their own. At night, when it was quiet and dark, self-blame and guilt crept out of their hiding places and flooded my brain. Why hadn’t I been faster? My failure was an ever-present thought.

++++

When I pulled up in front of the mercantile in Virginia City I had no clue how I got there. It was a good thing my buckboard team knew their way around town. Who knows where I would have ended up?

I tied up the reins and put on the brake, then walked into the store, determined to talk to the sheriff afterward. There had to be something I could do to find the man. Maybe I should check the wanted posters.

“Bad thing about little Miss Wood,” the storekeeper said when I handed him Hop Sing’s supply list.

Unwilling to discuss the topic with him, I shrugged. “Get it all together for me. I’ll be in the saloon for a beer.”

“Sure, Little Joe.” He seemed disappointed at missing the latest gossip. Perhaps he’d hoped for some firsthand details about the kidnapping to pass on to customers.

As I left the mercantile, I knew I had no appetite for beer. Tucking my thumbs into my holster, I watched the bustle of the street in the futile hope of seeing a barrel-chested man with a huge mustache. Imagining the fleshy fingers touching my girl, and worse, caused burning acid to rise to the back of my throat.

“Special edition!” a barefoot boy advertised the newspaper. Pa, who liked to keep up with the latest news, had considered ordering it, but who’d deliver it to the ranch? I wasn’t much of a newspaper reader, but Pa would be happy if I brought him one.

“Do you want one, sir?” the boy waved a copy in my face. I tossed him a coin, took it—and almost dropped it.

‘Missing girl found! Parents call it a miracle!’ The headline jumped out at me. Dumbfounded, I stared at the bold letters and started reading.

Charlotta W., a nineteen-year-old girl, was abducted by a stranger more than a week ago in Virginia City. The sheriff searched the entire town and surrounding area for days with a posse.

‘The Lord has done a miracle! He gave us our child back!’ Mr. W. told the Territorial Enterprise reporter after the young woman returned.

Jim, the Wells Fargo stagecoach driver, saw a figure staggering down the road last night as he drove his usual route to Virginia City. The girl was on foot, slightly bruised and dirty, and said she had been held in a cabin from which she escaped. The young woman was unable or unwilling to talk about what had happened to her during that time. She claimed not to know the man who abducted her and couldn’t describe him, claiming she had to wear a blindfold.

There was no ransom demand to her wealthy parents, the most plausible reason for kidnapping, according to the sheriff. Our lawman promised the concerned citizens that he would do everything possible to solve this mysterious case, find the culprit, and bring him to justice.

Dazed, I lowered the paper. Lottie was back? The budding relief brought a smile to my face. My girl was alive! As quick as it had come, the smile froze. What condition was she in? Why hadn’t anyone informed me? “I’ll be right back!” I hollered into the store and hurried to the sheriff’s office across the street.

The handle slipped out of my grip, and the door swung against the wall faster than I intended as I burst inside. My mouth was dry as dust from fear of what I was going to hear. “Howdy, Roy! What do you know about this?” I threw the paper on his desk.

“Howdy, Little Joe. No need to tear up my office.” Roy stood and carefully closed the door, then leaned against the edge of his desk with his arms crossed. “Someone just rode to the ranch to tell you. The stage yesterday was late and arrived in the dark. They picked up Miss Woods ten miles out of town.”

“How badly is she hurt?”

“I can’t give you any details. The doctor says it’s nothing life-threatening. She has mostly bruises and, um, abrasions.”

“Can I see her?”

“She’s at home. You’d better wait a few days until she’s recovered some and her parents have calmed down.”

Roy Coffee’s expression told me more than his words. I pinched my lips, knowing what he implied. My God! My sweet little girl! My face was stone. “Thanks, Sheriff.”

 

Chapter 5

I slept, ate, and did my chores as expected, but nobody saw how heavy my burden of guilt was. Sometimes, I felt I could barely breathe.

“Joe, where are your thoughts?” Hoss gasped, his head flushed and his voice strained, both hands clutching the wooden lever. “You know, this wagon’s darn heavy!”

“Huh?”

“Get that wheel on the axle! Hurry up!”

Blinking to return to the present, I placed the repaired wheel on the hub with a sigh. “Okay, you can lower it.”

“Dagnabbit, little brother, you’re out of line again. What’s on your mind? Still that girl of yours?”

I tightened the nut and wiped my hands on my pants before straightening up to look at Hoss, rubbing his sweaty forehead with his sleeve. The color on his face returned to normal. “Yeah. I was responsible for her, and I screwed up.”

“No one can blame you for the kidnapping or for the way that fella treated her.”

“I haven’t seen Lottie since. Roy told me to wait a couple of days. It makes me sick not to know if she’s all right. Think she’ll want to see me?”

“Dunno. You’re the expert when it comes to women. Go ahead and ask her. What can happen? The worst thing is she says no, right?”

“Yeah, maybe I will ask her.”

++++

The following Saturday, the opportunity arose. “I’ve got some business,” I told my brothers while reining in the horses outside the Silver Dollar Saloon.

Adam narrowed his eyes. “What do you have to do at this hour?”

“I want to see how Lottie is.”

Without waiting for a reply, I turned Cochise around and rode down the street, at the end of which stood the shining, whitewashed house of the Wood family. I dismounted, brushed the dust off my jacket, adjusted the string tie that felt too tight and cut off my air, and clutched my hat in front of my belly.

Mr. Wood answered my hesitant knock and got straight to the point. “What’s the matter, Cartwright? Haven’t you done enough damage already?” He looked me over from head to toe with disgust in his eyes. Until now, I had known him as a well-dressed man who cared about manners. Tonight, his shirt was stained and wrinkled, the shadow of a beard marred his otherwise clean-shaven face, and he reeked of whiskey. His appearance was in total contrast to the neat house with its cheerful flowered curtains, pots of blooming flowers on the porch, and two blue-painted rocking chairs next to a small table with a crocheted tablecloth.

“Um, I wanted to ask how Lottie—”

“Who’s at the door, Papa?” My heart skipped a beat at the sound of Lottie’s bright voice.

“Nobody. Just a drifter begging for food.” Mr. Wood took a threatening step toward me. “Get the hell out of my sight! We trusted you with our only daughter, our most precious girl, and you weren’t man enough to protect her. It’s your fault what this scum did to her. Don’t ever come back here again!” He slammed the door in my face, causing the panes to rattle.

With my head hanging low, I shuffled over to Cooch and mounted. My horse started to move without a command and trotted down the road.

My family had told me over and over that it wasn’t my fault, as if repeating it made it true. They said there was nothing I could have done. ‘Except draw faster,’ I thought crestfallen. Yeah, the Woods had every right to hate me.

“Hey, Cooch, where are we?” Confused, I looked around. I hadn’t noticed the surroundings, brooding and caught up in my gloomy thoughts. Laughter and music from a well-lit building caught my attention. “Wild Goose Saloon,” I read the sign next to the swinging door.

An overwhelming desire to drown my sorrows like Mr. Wood in alcohol took hold of me. I got off the horse. A place where no one knew me and where I could have a drink in peace without my brothers breathing down my neck would be perfect. “Good boy. You knew what I needed, huh?” I rubbed Cooch’s muzzle, tied his reins around the hitching post, and stepped inside.

Fresh sawdust was scattered across the floor. All the tables were occupied. Several poker games were happening, and two men were arm-wrestling, surrounded by men placing bets and cheering. A piano player pounded the keys with passion, causing the beer glass on the instrument to bounce and shake. Girls with trays laden with drinks pushed their way through the crowd.

The barman glanced at me with raised eyebrows as I approached the bar. I held my breath. Was he going to throw me out and tell me I was too young to drink? But he didn’t care about my age. “What do you want?” his mouth formed.

“Give me a beer!” I’m sure he was good at reading people’s wishes from their lips since you couldn’t understand a word with the noise in the room. I accepted the glass with a nod, took several deep draughts, then set it down and wiped my mouth. Relaxation set in almost immediately. While taking a deep breath, I decided to make the most of the evening.

Soon, my head felt light, and each sip of the golden brew pushed my guilt further to the back of my mind. A saloon girl joined me as the barkeep slid me my third beer. Since the piano player took a break, talking was possible.

“Howdy, Cowboy,” she greeted me with a cute grin from pink lips.

The girl was no longer young, and I could see wrinkles and skin flaws under the thick layer of powder. She stroked my neck with her red-painted fingernails, which sent a pleasant shiver down my spine. “Want something stronger?” She batted her long black lashes.

“Nope, I’ll stick to beer.”

“Would you buy me a drink?”

“Um, yeah, of course.”  I slipped the bartender a coin.

“You’re not the chatty type.”

I gave the girl a thin smile. “I’m sorry, lady. I just want to drink in peace.”

“What are you trying to forget, handsome?”

“I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Want me to help you forget your ‘I don’t want to talk about it’ problem?”

“Huh?”

“I’ve got a room upstairs, silly.”

A blush rose, and the air felt too hot and stuffy to breathe. She must have taken me for a fool. Of course, I was familiar with saloon customs, but so far, I’d always been with at least one of my brothers, who’d ensured that nothing more than a quick kiss and a brief flirt happened.

Before I could stammer a reply, a slender man with a three-day scruff stepped through the door, accompanied by a rush of fresh evening air. His dark leather pants had drawstrings on the outside and a mahogany-colored holster hung low on his right hip.

He paused for a moment, his gaze sweeping over each of the customers present. Finally, his shoulders relaxed, and he stepped up to the crowded bar. Two cowboys standing there shot the man a glance and moved aside so he came to stand beside me.

“Brandy, but the good stuff,” he ordered.

“Yes, Mr. Barrett, right away!” The fat bartender whirled, eagerly grabbing a liqueur sloshing bottle with a rich, reddish liquid, and placed it before the newcomer. He added a glass, dabbing sweat from his brow.

Barrett’s expression was blank as he poured himself a drink. He threw back the shot and refilled. His gaze flickered around the saloon again and then lingered on me. Wordless, he studied my gun and then my face at length.

“What are you staring at?” I snapped at him, causing the bartender to gasp.

Barrett shrugged, picked up the bottle and glass, and turned his back. I felt foolish for not even getting a reaction, but maybe it was as well. If I added brawling to sneaking off and getting drunk, Pa would find no end to hold it against me.

Radiating a confident calmness, the man strolled to one of the poker tables. One of the players glanced up, then tossed his cards down. “I’ll pass!”

Barrett nodded and took his seat as if it were a given. He placed his hat on the table beside him, stroked his neatly cut brown hair, and sat back, relaxing while the dealer shuffled cards to start a new game.

With my back to the bar and elbows propped up, I nursed my beer, wondering if I had missed anything. Who was this fella? People seemed to know and fear him. From his looks, I guessed he was a gunslinger.

The girl, on the other hand, wasn’t shy at all. Without hesitation, she joined the newcomer. She stepped behind him, rested her hands on his shoulders, whispering something in his ear.

The hours passed, and the saloon emptied. The alcohol was now in full effect, putting me in a pleasant state of indifference. From time to time, I glanced at the door, expecting two furious brothers to burst in. I bet they’d come after me. It couldn’t be long before they found Cochise.

“You bring me luck, darling!” I heard Barrett say as he pushed back his chair and stood. He piled up his winnings with both hands, sliding two greenbacks into the giggling girl’s cleavage. “It’s been a real treat playin’ with ya all!” The man pocketed the money in his black vest and turned to leave. His shiny boots plowed through the sawdust.

“Not so fast!” The dealer’s sudden outburst let the noise die down, his chair legs scraping the floor in a nerve-wracking sound. “I wanna check your clothes. I saw you pull a card from your sleeve!”

Unmoved, the gunslinger continued his way to the door.

“Watch out!” I yelled as the dealer, his face an angry grimace, cleared leather. In a split second, Barrett spun, drew, and fired. The dealer screamed in pain, bright blood eating into his shirt sleeve.

Clear gray eyes met mine, thin lips twitching into a half-smile. “Thanks for the warnin’, young fella, but it wasn’t necessary. I kept an eye on that varmint through the mirror behind the bar. How ’bout I buy you a drink?”

“Okay.” I eyeballed the man, a Texan, from the way he spoke. Neither of us paid any attention to the injured fella leaving, clutching his bleeding elbow and cursing under his breath.

“I’m Viper.”  A slender, long-fingered hand shook mine. I noticed the wide laced leather cuff that adorned his right forearm. Viper’s palm was smooth, without calluses, but he had a firm grip. “You’ve got yourself a nice weapon. Mind if I take a look?”

My heart leaped at the praise. “Joe Cartwright. Got it for my last birthday.” I unholstered the gun and handed it to him, butt first. My chest swelled in pride as I watched Viper examine my .44. The man weighed it in his hand, stroking the ivory handle, then gripped the pistol as if aiming at something. “Well balanced. The right caliber for you, only the barrel’s a mite too long. How good are you with it? You look quite young.”

“I’m good, but not as fast as you.” I took the gun back, twirled it around my index finger, and slid it back into my holster in one smooth motion.

Viper laughed. “That’s just showing off, son. It won’t help ya in a real gunfight.”

I lowered my head and reached for my brandy. “Yeah, I know.” I tossed the shot back, and Viper poured another one on me. “You were quick on the draw earlier.”

“I knew the dealer would give me trouble. I was prepared. It’s one of my habits always to know what’s going on behind my back.”

“What are you doing in town?”

“Business.” The tone made it clear he wasn’t going to go into it.

“Was he right?”

“About me cheating?” Viper grinned, showing a row of even white teeth. “Maybe. But poker is only a pastime. I’ve got a more lucrative way to make money.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Dadburnit, Little Joe!” Hoss stomped into the saloon, followed by Adam. “We’ve been looking all over town for you!”

“I guess they’re going to drag me home,” I muttered with a wry grin, disappointed that the evening was over just when it was about to get exciting.

Viper’s eyes held an amused twinkle as he let out a chuckle. “You know where to find me if you want to continue our talk. See ya around, Joe!”

“So long!” My words were interrupted by Adam grabbing my arm. My face burned with embarrassment as he hauled me out of the saloon. On the street, I shook off his hand. “Damn, was that necessary? You made a fool of me!”

“How much did you drink?” Adam asked with suppressed anger, shooting me a scrutinizing glance. “And what sort of people are you hanging around with? This fella looks like a gunslinger. That’s no company for you.”

“I met him by chance, but that’s none of your business. Can’t I spend a night alone without you babysitting me?”

“Pa said to keep an eye on you. Now, get on your horse. We’re heading home.”

Annoyed, I breathed out. Adam’s tone allowed no argument. I was so tired of being treated like the baby of the family. I would have loved to talk with Barrett. His self-confidence and the way people respected him fascinated me. But no one was interested in what I wanted. I had to follow Pa’s and Adam’s rules.

 

Chapter 6

Three days later, I had the opportunity to see Barrett again when Pa ordered me into town to send an important telegram and await a reply on some documents that needed to be checked.

While Willy typed on the telegraph machine, I looked around the office. Besides the machine and the Morse key, the desk was littered with papers. My eyes fell on the latest edition of the Territorial Enterprise, and the name ‘Viper’ in the headline caught my attention.

Lukas ‘Viper’ Barrett kills wanted murderer.

On the evening of April 2, 1859, a gunfight erupted in the streets of Virginia City. Luke Barrett, a Texas gunfighter and notorious bounty hunter, and Ed Dalton, a man wanted for murder and bank robbery, drew their guns when they happened to meet outside the Wild Goose Saloon. A $1,500 reward was offered for Dalton. He had robbed the Salt Lake City Bank in March and shot and killed the teller.

Barrett’s bullet hit Dalton directly in the heart after he refused to …

“Little Joe, here’s your answer.”

“Thank you! Can I take the paper?”

“Sure. I already read it.” Willy tapped a thick finger on the article. “This Barrett’s a real nasty fella. They say he’s killed dozens of people in cold blood. Just make sure you don’t run into him.”

“Alright, Willy.” I slipped the telegram into my jacket pocket and hurried outside, where I folded the newspaper and stuffed it into my saddlebag. After mounting without bothering with the stirrup, I steered Cooch down D Street until I saw the Flying Goose sign ahead.

The saloon was not very busy, for it was early afternoon. The slim, well-dressed man with a five o’clock shadow immediately caught my eye. With his back to the wall and hat beside him, he sat at a table with a bottle of brandy for company. There was something aloof about Viper. His dark aura kept me from walking over and joining him.

“Beer!” I ordered from the bartender, taking a deep sip to calm my nerves and buy time. My heart beat up to my throat. Now that I knew the man was a dangerous gunslinger, I was no longer as relaxed as I’d been a few days ago. God, I’d snapped at him for staring! I guessed I was lucky to be still alive. Should I go over? He’d sort of invited me to continue our talk, but now I wasn’t sure if that was a good idea. Trying to decide, I stepped from one foot to the other.

Did Viper feel lonesome? It looked so the way he sat at the table, lost in thought and drinking. A man who spent his life killing people probably didn’t have a lot of friends. Still, the Texan wouldn’t be hanging out with a cowboy half his age, right? But I was wrong, though.

“Howdy, Joe. Come on over!”

Not wanting to seem too eager, I took my time, imagining Adam casually strolling down the street, although my heart hammered with excitement. I cleared my throat. “Howdy, Mr. Barrett.”

“No one’s callin’ me that. It’s Viper. Guess you read the article in the paper?”

“Yeah, I didn’t know …”

“That I’m a bounty hunter? I don’t make a big deal out of it. But some nosy reporter poked around.”

“How did you get so good? At shooting, I mean.” I swallowed hard, trying to appear older and calmer than I was. The man’s cool composure was impressive. He had everything under control. No one would dare challenge him or take his girl away.

“Countless hours of practice. You gotta master your weapon in your sleep. It must become a reflex. Draw, cock the hammer, aim, and pull the trigger. It’s the same as when you put on your shirt in the mornin’ and button it up.  You don’t think about the movements. Your body does it on its own.”

“Can you teach me?”

“Teach you? Why should I?”

Struggling to find the right words, I turned the beer glass in my hands. I put it down and looked straight into the steely gray eyes that studied me. “I … want to be able to defend people I care about when it matters.”

“What happened, son?”

“Huh?”

“Who did you lose? You seem pretty serious for a young fella.”

“A girl. She’s not dead, but if I’d been quicker, I could have saved her from getting harmed.”

Viper finished his brandy and topped it off. “It’s all about practice, but I can give you some tips alright.”

“Now?”

“You’re serious, ain’t you? Well, I’ll get my horse from the livery stable. We meet outside town at the old oak, say in thirty minutes?”

“Yes, sir!” Adjusting my hat, I jumped to my feet. “I’ll be waitin’ for you there.”

A benevolent smile played around Barrett’s lips as he glanced after me.

As I tightened Cooch’s belt outside the saloon, a quivering nervousness gripped my body and made my palms sweaty. In fact, I had no reason to be. Since I’d been given the gun for my sixteenth birthday, I’d practiced. I thought I was an average shot, faster than Pa and Hoss and at least as good as Adam. But since the incident, that wasn’t good enough for me.

++++

My ears rang from the shots I had fired at the trunk of the poor old oak. The dark, shredded bark reminded me of a gaping wound with lighter wood shining through. The air was heavy with gunpowder vapor, and the barrel was too hot to touch. I pulled back the hammer to release the cylinder, opened the loading gate, and tilted the pistol to let the empty shells fall out.

My gaze flickered to my viewer. This was not how I’d imagined our training session going. Viper stood leaning against a fallen tree stump, a blade of grass between his lips. He had tilted his head and folded his arms across his chest. His expression was inscrutable. I wondered if he would just watch or if I would get some useful tips.

I didn’t have to wait long for an answer. The gunslinger broke away from the tree and strolled toward me. As he began his first lesson, the blade of grass moved from one corner of his mouth to the other.

“You’ve got a good way to hold your gun. Firm, but not too tight.”

My face lit up. “Thanks!”

“But you yank the trigger. You’d better squeeze it. A smooth, steady motion is key for hittin’ your mark. Go on, fire again.”

Six more shots tore pieces of wood from the oak’s trunk. I reloaded while Viper continued his lesson.

“Much better. Always keep count of them rounds you’ve fired. Could be mighty important to know how many slugs ya got left in the drum.”

“Alright.” I twirled my .44 around my index finger and slid it into the holster.

“Hold it. Did you check your ammunition for defects?”

“Um, no.”

“You should. A bad bullet can be worse than an empty chamber. How many rounds did you load?”

“Six.” I frowned at him. “Why?”

Viper stepped up beside me and waved his fingers, palm up. “Hand it over. I’ll show you something.”

I pulled the gun from my holster and handed it.

“Have a close look.” He pointed the barrel at the ground without touching the trigger. With the ball of his hand, he struck the hammer. The sharp crack of the shot made me jump, dirt and rocks splattering at our feet.

“Heck!”

“That might have been your leg. This here’s model’s known to fire even with the safety on. Smart men leave the sixth chamber in front of the bolt empty.

I looked at him wide-eyed. “Alright, I got it. None of my brothers told me this.”

A smug smile appeared on Viper’s face, giving me the impression he enjoyed showing me all these things. “A gunfighter never stops learnin’. There’s always a new skill to master or a new lesson to soak up. Experience is the best teacher you’ll ever have.”

I rubbed my neck. “I’m not sure if I want to have this kind of experience.”

“That’s fine. Sometimes, the best shot is the one you don’t take. Be patient and wait for the right moment. If you rush things, you’ll only get into trouble.”

“Patience is not my strong point,” I admitted.

“Enough for today.” Barrett spat out the blade of grass and walked to his horse.

“Can we do this again? There’s more you can teach me.”

“Sure, son. I’ve got nothing better to do. When?”

“Saturday, late afternoon. Shall we meet here?”

“Alright. In the meantime, keep practicing until it’s second nature. Speed and smoothness come from repetition.”

“I will.” Satisfied, I holstered my pistol and walked over to Cochise. We were up and away before my boot was in the stirrup. Pa wouldn’t be happy about the delay, and I felt he wouldn’t like me meeting Viper. I had to come up with an explanation.

 

Chapter 7

“Howdy, Joe, I thought you wouldn’t come.”

“Yes, but I had to convince my brothers that I could do without them for an hour or two after we went to town. They’re worse than a cow protecting her newborn calf.”

“Yeah, I noticed that in the saloon the other day.”

A wave of heat crawled across my face. “They mean well.”

“Why did you come to me and not ask your brothers? I’m sure they taught you shootin’.”

“Yeah, Adam did. But he’s twelve years older than me and only sees me as the boy I used to be. He doesn’t take me seriously.”

“How many bullets did you load?”

“Just five, like you said.”

“And the empty chamber’s behind the hammer?”

“Yeah.”

“Sure?”

“Yes!”

“So sure you’d bet a month’s pay on it?”

“Um …” I peeked into the gap before the drum.

Barrett grinned. “Better double-check. I told you the barrel was too long for you the first night. You should switch to the 4¾ inch model. The shorter the barrel, the faster you can draw. Now, let me see your holster.”

I took it off and handed it to Viper, my eyes glued to his lips. Slender fingers glided over the smooth leather and hallmarks. “You got a nice holster, which is supple and well cared for. Where would you carry the gun if you didn’t have a holster?”

The moment I tucked the pistol into the front of my waistband, I knew it was a stupid idea. As our eyes locked, the bounty hunter’s broad smirk confirmed it. “I’ve seen folks get their balls blown off. Sure ain’t a pleasant sight. Better stick it in the back of your belt. Harder to reach, but a whole lot safer.”

 

“You’ve improved,” Viper said, looking at the pile of empty shells at my feet after I fired several rounds at the oak trunk.

My heart swelled with pride. I had practiced a lot in the past week, even too much for my brothers’ taste. Adam, in particular, hadn’t been able to refrain from making one or two snarky comments. He was adept at throwing in side jabs about my age. He did it smiling, but I could hear the edge hidden underneath. He knew how much it annoyed me.

In his opinion, I was too young to drink whiskey, too young to date saloon girls, and maybe too young to handle a gun. Viper treated me like an equal, like a man. He hadn’t called me ‘boy’ once. He would listen to what I had to say and liked my company.

Viper’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. “It’s too damn hot. Let’s go grab a beer.” He gazed into the azure sky with squinted eyes. Then, knowing I would follow, he adjusted his hat and walked to his horse without waiting for my answer.

 

We passed through the swinging doors of the Wild Goose Saloon and ordered brandy. I preferred beer, but I thought I’d adjust. The bartender pinched his lips and shook his head in disbelief about the company I was in when he placed the bottle and two glasses before us. As we walked over to an empty corner table, the nape of my neck tingled from sensing the looks of those present. They respected Viper, and some of his fame rubbed off on me. We sat down—always with our backs to the wall, I’d learned—and watched the goings-on in the saloon.

To drown out the enthusiastic piano player, I had to lean close to Viper, determined to learn more about him. “How many people have you shot?”

The gunslinger drained his brandy in one big gulp and studied the glass. “Eleven men. All fair fights, and I turned twice that many over to the law. Alive. But that ain’t much of a story. I only shoot when I have to.”

“What’s it like to kill a person?” I held my breath. Would he answer such a personal question? While he considered, I enjoyed the smooth sweetness of the rich liquor. The taste of apricots and a hint of oak lay soft on my tongue. Brandy wasn’t such a bad choice after all.

“I was seventeen with the first one. He was scum. My sister caught him stealin’ horses from our barn. He had his way with her and strangled her. I hunted him down. I wanted to take him to the sheriff and see him hanged, but he drew his gun. The sun was blinding him, so it was just luck that my bullet hit and his failed. When I delivered the body, it turned out there was a $500 reward ’cause he was a wanted thief. That was my way in.”

“And it doesn’t give you nightmares, having killed so many people?”

“I only hunt men wanted by the law. They’re cold-blooded killers, cattle rustlers, or bank robbers. They ain’t got no respect for other folk’s hard-earned money, property of life. Nah, I don’t lose no sleep over it. Makes the West a bit better and safer when I clear out this scum. I do people a favor. But they fear or despise me for what I do. Some sheriffs toss the reward at my feet ‘stead of handing it to me.”

“You must be rich!” I studied the label on the expensive-looking brandy Viper downed like other people drank watered-down beer.

“I get by fine. One job pays more than others make a year.”

“But you live dangerously.”

“Yeah, that’s the truth. There’s always folks tryin’ to settle a score for kin or young guns wanting to make a name by taking me on. My time will come one day. There’s always someone quicker than you. It’s just a matter of when and where you’ll cross paths with him.”

“I’m looking for a fella who kidnapped my girl. I imagine what I’ll do when I find him.”

“Thinking ’bout revenge? That’s all feelings. Never let emotions drive you in nailing someone. Feelings leave you weak. They cloud your mind if you need to think straight. Get rid of them.”

I scratched my head. I sure was an intense person, throwing myself into life and relationships with a vengeance, quick to give my heart away. Disappointment, betrayal, or my self-blame dragged me into a swirl of emotions from which I had difficulty fighting back to the surface.

“This here’s gonna be the toughest part for you, Joe. It’s written all over your face. Right now, you ain’t sure if you can keep your feelings in check. You’re proud to sit at the table with me, seeing them folks giving you curious looks, wondering what a nice boy like you had to do with a fella like me. I know you’d rather drink beer and are trying to please me.”

“Darn.” I rubbed my neck with an embarrassed, crooked smile. I hadn’t realized it was so obvious.

I blew out the air I was holding when Viper’s hand came to rest on my shoulder. “Don’t be bashful now. You remind me of the kid Luke Barrett. I was like you. Full of fire and spirit, a tad green, and keen to carve out my path. One bullet changed everything. So, think hard if you wanna walk in my boots.”

“I … haven’t thought about it yet. I want to be ready for situations where speed matters. Maybe someday I’ll face the man that took Lottie. He has to be punished. I thought it would feel good to look him in the eye and see his fear and the realization that he’ll die.”

“You’re too decent to shoot someone in cold blood.”

“Yeah, I know. I just imagine it sometimes. I would challenge him. It would be a fair gunfight. The next time we meet, I want to be the winner.”

“You will be, son.”

“Hope so. Well, I gotta go. Saturday in a week by the oak?”

“Alright.”

 

I was late for dinner. As I slid into my seat, mumbling an apology, it felt like I had broken into a serious conversation as everyone fell silent. Cutlery clinking against china sounded unusually loud. Three pairs of eyes rested on me as I filled my plate, making me guess I had been the subject of their discussion. Bracing myself, I put down the spoon, looking at Pa. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Pa cleared his throat. “Joseph, where have you been all afternoon? You said you went to meet friends. Mitch and Seth rode in a few hours ago and wanted to pick you up for a beer. Apparently, you haven’t met them. Why did you lie to me?”

Anger flashed in my eyes, and my raised voice sounded defiant. “I didn’t say who I was seeing!”

“Don’t use that tone with me.”

“I met a fella at the old hanging oak. We did some target practice, okay? Why do you always have to check up on me? Must I justify everything I’m doing? Do I need your permission to meet up with friends?” I tossed the napkin on the plate and pushed the chair back. “I ain’t hungry. I turn in. Night.”

“Joseph!”

I didn’t turn around but stomped up the stairs, driven by Pa’s booming voice. The bedroom door slammed shut behind me with a satisfying thud. Then I changed my mind. I opened it a crack, slipped back into the hallway, and tiptoed to the landing. It was an excellent place to eavesdrop on whatever was going on in the main room. I’d spent a lot of time there as a child, unnoticed by Pa and my brothers, and I’d heard tons of things that weren’t meant for my ears. Crouching on the top step, I held my breath as Pa spoke.

“… is not himself right now. I’m worried about him. He’s having a rough go of it.”

“He’s blaming himself for the kidnapping. It’s eating him up.” Hoss’ voice was full of pain.

Adam sounded as if rubbing his mouth. “Yeah. I guess the Woods had some harsh words with him.”

Pa pondered, “Thank God the girl got away. Suppose she hadn’t shown up or was dead. I can’t even imagine what that would have done to the boy.”

I was about to get up, but Pa went on. “Do you know who he’s meeting?”

“No. It must be someone we don’t know,” Adam said.

“Gee, Pa. You trust him, don’t you? Do you think he’s mixed up with something?”

I grinned. As usual, Hoss was on my side.

“I wonder …”

Ah, Mr. Smart has an idea.

“The other day, we found Joe in the saloon, drinking and talking with this man. He looked like a gunfighter.”

“That fella’s twice Joe’s age. I ain’t sure he’d mess with a boy,” Hoss threw in, the doubt in his words obvious.

“Did you see how Joe looked at him? He was like an eager puppy trying to please his owner,” Adam threw in.

“Now you’re overdoing it. Joe is seventeen.”

“Exactly. You and I were men at that age, but Joe? He always manages to hang out with the wrong people.” Adam sounded thoughtful. “Have you noticed how he’s wearing his holster lately? Low on his hip? He practices shooting every chance he gets.”

“I’ve been wondering about this strong interest in his weapon, too. So far it had been more of a tool for him,” came our father’s concerned voice.

“Aw, Pa, don’t worry about him. Little Joe is too smart to be impressed by a fella like that,” Hoss said.

“I’m not so sure. He’s young and easily swayed,” Adam’s thoughtful voice rang out.

Pa sighed again. “Being caught in that stage between child and manhood is not easy. He needs to find his place in life. Looking for ideals is natural. We must make sure they are the right ones. Adam, where are you going?”

“Into town. I’ll have a talk with that gunslinger. He’s not good company for Joe.” Chair legs scraped across the floor, and I imagined Adam getting up and walking to the credenza where he would grab his gun belt and hat.

Footsteps approached the stairs. Heck!

I scurried back to my room as fast and quietly as I could. Closing the door, I threw myself onto the bed, hands behind my head, trying to slow down my bumping heart and look innocent, like I’d been lying here a while.

There was a knock at the door. Pa stuck his head in. “Can we talk?”

“Sure,” I said, but I meant the opposite.

The mattress lowered as Pa sat on the edge of my bed. He frowned at seeing my boots resting on the quilt but said nothing. “You’re still blaming yourself for what happened to Miss Woods, right?”

I swung my legs out of the bed and came to sit next to Pa. “Yeah.” My gaze lingered on the knotted hands in my lap. “Nothing you say will change it, but I can make sure something like that doesn’t happen again.”

“There are things we can’t control. You’ve done your best.”

“My best wasn’t enough, but I’m working to change that.”

“By seeing a gunslinger?”

“Don’t you think I can choose my friends?”

“He’s a bad influence on you.”

“Is he? You don’t even know him!” I was about to jump up and pace back and forth in outrage. “What are you going to do if I keep seeing Barrett? Give me a spanking? Lock me in my room?”

“Calm down, boy. You know I won’t. But Adam is on his way to town. He’ll talk with the gunslinger.”

‘I know,’ was about to slip out, but I bit my lip hard. With a knot in my stomach, I imagined how the meeting would go. Most likely, Adam would try to get Viper to leave town, but I had no clue how. Barrett wouldn’t fire on my brother, would he? With his overly relaxed manner and sharp words, Adam could rile people up to the point of losing their temper.

I wondered whether I should try convincing Pa that Viper was a good person, but I dismissed the idea. I couldn’t come up with enough arguments to change his mind. Yet, I felt the urge to defend my friend and justify myself. “We just practiced shooting. Everybody does. Ain’t nothing wrong with it.”

“Carrying a gun is a great responsibility. I gave it to you because I trusted you to be ready. I don’t want you to become someone who makes a living with it. That kind of man doesn’t live very long.”

“That was never my intention!”

Pa rested his hand on my knee. “I’m just worried. I don’t want you to get hurt. Men tend to show off and challenge others when they’re a good shot. I don’t want to have to mourn a dead son.”

“You won’t.”

Pa gave a deep sigh and didn’t sound convinced at all. “All right. Good night then.”

“Night.”

Stepping in front of the washstand, I unbuttoned my shirt. An angry face stared back at me in the mirror. A deep crease was carved between my eyebrows. The corners of my mouth were pulled down, and my nostrils flared.

I remembered Viper’s words: ‘Emotions make you weak and vulnerable.’ I took several deep breaths, rolled my shoulders to loosen the stiff muscles, relaxed my clenched hands, and let my face fall slack and blank. It felt much better. I would work on it.

Undoing my pants, I kicked them off, along with my boots, and reached for my nightshirt. What I had overheard in the living room was partly true. I’d tried to imitate Viper.

 

Chapter 8

I’d been waiting by the oak for almost half an hour before I had to admit that Viper wasn’t coming. Although I’d tried to draw every detail out of Adam, he’d said little about his conversation with the bounty hunter.

“Let’s go home, Cooch.” Hanging my head, I trotted towards my horse. My boots shuffled through the dust that swirled around my legs, kicking aside a stone in my path. Pa and Adam always wanted to be in control. Would they also have a say in which girl I married? Pa had tried with my brothers when they courted women whose background or job he disapproved of. Anyway, I could practice on my own.

Just as I was about to leave, a black-clad rider approached. The joy that Viper would continue training with me was written all over my face. “Howdy,” my greeting rang out, carrying my excitement at my friends’ appearance.

The headhunter dismounted, a smile tugging at his lips. “Did your pa let you leave?”

“I was the first one up and rounded up strays non-stop so I could be on my way early in the afternoon. Today, no one can accuse me of not doing my job.”

“I’m on your side, Joe. You don’t have to tell me. You’d better relax and remember what I told you ’bout them feelings.”

“I thought you wouldn’t come after Adam spoke to you.”

“Your brother, don’t scare me none. He ain’t got no right telling me what to do or not to do. After all, we’re not doing anything wrong. I told him to go to hell.”

Picturing Adam’s face, I suppressed a giggle. “So, how did he react?”

“He was pissed that he couldn’t impress me. He said he’d dig into my past and get the sheriff to run me out of town.”

“Will he find anything? Adam can be quite dogged when he gets his teeth into something.”

“‘Cept for the occasional cheat at poker, I have a clean record. Don’t worry about it, Joe. Let’s have a bit of practice.”

“Why are you helping me anyhow?”

Viper shrugged, staring into the distance. “It’s a fine pastime. It’s fun. I enjoy having a student. You’re quick to learn.”

I giggled. “Miss Jones, my school teacher thought otherwise. In her opinion, I was slow and lazy.”

Viper went to the oak tree and hung up an old wanted poster that appeared to have been stored in his saddlebag for a long time. Then he pulled his watch from his vest pocket. “Fire five rounds through the sights, then reload as fast as you can and fire five more from the hip. Try to hit the head.”

“Alright.” I took a couple of deep breaths, loosened up my hand, and made sure that the gun would easily slide out of the holster.

“Go!”

The sound of my shots followed each other, blending into a single rumble. By the time the echo from the hillside had faded, I’d tossed out the empty shells. My fingers flew as I reloaded. Bam, bam, bam … five more bursts, this time from the hip, shredding the head on the wanted poster into a ragged hole.

“Twenty-five seconds! All hit the bull’s eye. That’s fantastic! You’ve got a natural talent, Joe.”

Out of breath, I jammed the .44 back in. My chest swelled with pride. I would show everyone! I wasn’t as smart as Adam or strong as Hoss, but I was the fastest shot in the family. I was almost as good as Viper!

“Stand beside me. I’ll count to three. Then we’ll shoot the whole drum at once. Aim for the paper.”

Gunpowder fogged the air and settled in my mouth and nose as we re-holstered our guns. We looked at each other, me with a broad grin and Viper with admiration.

“You’re done, Joe. You’re as fast as I am.”

“Are you serious? Did I thank you yet for taking the time?”

“Everything you’ve learned, you could have done without me. Most of it is common sense mixed with some knowledge and a whole lotta practice.”

“I think you’re understating it.”

“Maybe. Fact is, I can’t teach you more. You can take your weapon apart and put it back together blindfolded. You’re fast as hell and damn precise.”

“What about those people who shoot coins and stuff at shows?”

“Trick shooting. It’s good for entertainment or for showing off. You don’t have to be able to hit tiny targets like a coin. Being quick’s more important. Go for the center of the chest or, if you’re sure, the head. As I said, in stressful situations, when you ain’t got time to aim, trust your instincts. Your body knows what to do. If you don’t wanna kill a man, just cripple him, hit one of his joints. A shot in the knee or the elbow will put a man out of action alright.”

I opened a new box of shells to reload. My whole paycheck went to ammunition. I didn’t even have money for a beer, but this was more important.

Viper looked over my shoulder. “I know you keep your pistol clean and well-oiled. Think of it like a delicate lady you care for and wanna keep happy. Then it’ll serve you well for many years. And one more thing. Never point it at any livin’ critter, human or animal, unless you’re prepared to kill.”

“Yeah, my family drilled that into me, too.”

“You sure you wanna stay a cowboy? Think ’bout all the money you could make. You could roam the country with me. We’d share the rewards. I don’t mind some company.”

“Really? You’d take me with you?” My eyes lit up. Of course, I didn’t seriously consider it. Pa would have a fit: Joe Cartwright, bounty hunter. The thought brought a chuckle. But nothing stopped me from imagining and playing with the idea. A picture popped into my mind.

Threatening clouds gathered while lightning flashed through the darkness and thunder rolled across the landscape. The sky opened its floodgates. Side by side, Viper and I rode into a small town, one hand casually resting on our thigh near the sidearm. Whispering our names, people avoided our gaze and stepped aside.

No one would dare bother us. Two of us could take down whole gangs like the Copperheads, three red-haired brothers, or the Bridger Gang. We would collect the reward. It would be like my dime novels about the hero Jake Carter, who had countless adventures and defeated the villains.

“You dream, Joe?”

“Um … yeah, kind of. Another round, huh? Maybe I can make it even faster. You got another poster?”

Viper turned, rummaging through his saddlebag, pulling out a crumpled page and replacing the torn one. I drew, took aim, and froze. An angular face with a massive mustache and cold black eyes stared at me. I read the text aloud. “Jesse Cooley wanted for cheating and stealing—dead or alive, $1000 reward.” I turned to face my friend. “That’s the man! The one who almost killed me and kidnapped my girl!”

“I collect wanted posters from every town and study the faces in case I run into one of them crooks. Took this from Salt Lake last year.”

Stepping up to the oak, I tore off the sheet. “I only got a brief glimpse of his face, but I’m pretty sure. Now that I have a name, I can show this profile around and search for him in Virginia City. You help me?”

“Yeah. But you know what’s gonna happen if we find him?”

“I’m not afraid.” Determined, I shoved the gun into the holster.

“But you should. Fear’s natural, but don’t let it run you. Use it to sharpen your focus and stay calm under pressure. A clear mind will keep you alive.”

“I’ll try.”

“All right. Here’s what we’ll do: ask ’round the saloons, see if anybody’s seen him. That always works. Eventually, Cooley gets wind of somebody snoopin’ around. You’ll see. It won’t be long before he crawls outta his hole and tries to confront us.”

My heart pounded with excitement, and the palms of my hands grew wet. With an impatient movement, I wiped them on my pants. Was I ready? That would show. “Okay, let’s get into town.”

 

The streets of Virginia City were bathed in a fiery red from the setting sun, reminding me of a forest fire. We rode down the street side by side. I noticed the looks people gave us. It was almost like in my image. Viper was known as a fast shooter, and nobody sane would get in his way.

My fidgety excitement had subsided on the ride, and I tried to put myself in the calm composure of a stone. We were unlikely to find Jesse the first night. Virginia City had plenty of saloons. He may already have moved on. If not, it would take a few days for him to figure out we were after him.

Luck, chance, or fate, I didn’t know what led us to Miner’s Haven after we’d checked out half a dozen saloons.

“You ride on down the road. I’ll take a quick look around,” I called to Viper, dismounting and stepping through the batwing doors. As I had learned from my ideal, I stood with my back to the wall and let my eyes roam over the crowd, ignoring the stench of sweaty bodies, greasy grub, and booze poured by the busy barman.

I searched for a dark hat on a bulky figure with a mustache—and jumped at seeing him. As if sensing my gaze, Jesse lifted his head from his steak. I stared into his charcoal eyes without blinking until he realized I had a score to settle with him.

A broad, evil grin appeared under the bushy growth covering his upper lip when it dawned on him who I was. “I’ll be right back! Gotta do something,” he informed his friends at the table and stood.

My mouth turned dry. I remembered him being taller, but he still looked threatening as he strolled up to me, hairy forearms and fleshy hands dangling beside his hips. “Look, the kid hasn’t had enough. You’ve got seven lives like a cat, huh? What do you want? Another bullet? A beating?”

I pulled the wanted poster from my pocket and held it to the man. My jaw was tight, my nostrils flared. Don’t show him how nervous you are. He’ll sense your fear like a wolf. My voice was surprisingly calm. “I’ll turn you over to the sheriff.” Drawing my weapon, I pointed it at his stomach while pulling his gun out of his holster and tucking it in the back of my belt, “Come on, get moving.”

As we stepped out into the street, my luck ran out. One drunk fella stumbled into me, distracting me for a brief moment. Jesse seized the opportunity. He was damn quick for a man his size. He jerked his elbow back, ramming it into my ribs with brutal force. Something cracked. My legs gave way. I found myself kneeling on the road.

Jesse jumped me. Sinewy fingers grabbed my wrist and squeezed and twisted it until my hand went numb. My hold broke. The .44 slipped from my grasp, hitting the ground. Cooley dove for it, and with a sharp ‘click,’ he cocked the hammer, swinging the muzzle in my direction. In a whirl of dust, I spun sideways, fumbling for the gun tucked in my waistband. Two shots ripped through the air, the echoes bouncing off the buildings. A heavy impact slammed into my thigh, sending me sprawling onto my back. My opponent crumbled to the ground as if struck by lightning.

Shaken and not completely aware of what happened, I lowered the smoking gun, which felt heavy and clumsy in my trembling hand.

Rolling onto my side, I crawled on all fours to the man lying a few feet away. We locked eyes. He blinked in disbelief. “It was all staged,” I heard him whisper as life spurted from his body in an unstoppable stream.

“What?” I grabbed the dying man’s collar. “What was staged?”

Jesse’s head fell to one side as his face, contorted with pain, relaxed. A last bloody blister appeared in the corner of his mouth and burst silently. Then the body went limp.

“What was staged?” I shook Jesse to force an answer until a long-fingered hand rested on my shoulder. Viper stood behind me.

“It’s over, Joe. He’s dead.”

My body slumped. Without seeing anything, I stared off into the void. People who had taken cover in the face of the shooting broke free and rushed toward us. A silent circle of curious faces framed the scene.

I was on my knees in the dirt, blood staining my trousers an alarming red. In front of me lay the man sprawled out on the ground with a hole in the middle of his chest. A few minutes earlier, he’d celebrated with his friends in the saloon. The gunslinger stood still beside me, holding me in a tight grip, the only anchor to reality as gray fog threatened to cloud my view.

Roy Coffee pushed his way through the crowd and took over command. “You, Barrett, and you, Hickman, help Joe over to the Doc. Can you walk, boy?”

I lifted my head and nodded, my eyes burning and hot. Without resisting, I let Viper and Hickman pull me to my feet. Relentless pain shot from my toes to my hip and cleared my head. I would have preferred the numbness.

I’d imagined meeting Jesse would be more glorious: We stood wide-legged, facing each other. Our hands hovered inches above our gun butts. We stared into each other’s faces, ready to rip the pistol from its holster and fire at the first tiny muscle twitch or eye glint. While I stood tall and bathed in the admiring gazes of the crowd, Jesse would go down.

Instead, it was a scramble for the weapons because he’d tricked me. With my soaked pant leg clinging to my aching leg, I was dragged undignified across the street. My hobbling could hardly be described as walking. A terrifying amount of viscous blood dripped onto the ground while nausea knotted my stomach. God, how far was it to the doc?

‘Hang in there, Cartwright,’ I told myself, gritting my teeth. Still, muffled groans escaped me. It was my first gunshot wound. Pa would explode with rage at my reckless and thoughtless actions.

I’d never been so glad to see the doc as I was today. He threw open the door as we approached. “Anybody hurt? I heard gunfire. Oh, I see. Get Little Joe in here.”

 

Chapter 9

I’d killed my first man and felt empty and numb. Nothing mattered anymore. Not the gawking crowd on the street, not the pain still raging through my leg despite the laudanum, and not the fact that the culprit was dead and I was the winner. I’d get the reward. It was a lot of money, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted it.

A forceful woman’s voice and Paul Martin’s angry one reached me. It sounded like they argued. “Miss Wood, no! I’ve just done the surgery on Little Joe. He’s in no condition for—”

The door to the treatment room flew open, slamming against the wall as Lottie burst in. Her blue eyes flashed with determination, and her straw-yellow mane swirled around her shoulders.

“The whole town is talking about what happened! You look terrible. My God, all that blood!” Lottie stared at the bowl of red water and Paul’s instruments, eyes wide. Bloody gauze, towels, and my cut pants littered the floor. “Oh, Joe!”

Lottie moved as if to touch me, then lowered her hand, undecided, chewing on her lip. The girl eyed my chest, which was wrapped in a tight bandage. Her gaze slid further down until she stared at my thickly bandaged leg, outlined under the sheet. “Are you okay?”

Uncomfortable with her scrutiny, I squirmed. Embarrassment replaced my relief to see my girl so lively. “Um …” My fingers clutched the cloth. I would have liked more than the thin sheet that covered my lower body.

The doctor could read minds. He rushed over, carrying a scratchy-looking woolen blanket. While draping it over me, he shot me an encouraging smile and Lottie a frown. Then, he left the room to give us privacy.

“I didn’t want any of this. The sheriff questioned me. This gunman, Barrett, was with him. He had a wanted poster from Jesse. I … I didn’t mean …” The girl covered her face with her hands, sobbing.

I reached out for her arm, my tongue heavy with the drugs pumping through my blood, keeping the pain at bay and bringing back the pleasant fog. “Lottie, don’t cry. What are you talkin’ about?”

“Jesse was a friend of mine. Last summer, I used to sneak out of the house at night. We met in the barn. My parents would never have allowed it. We staged the kidnapping. It wasn’t planned for him to shoot at you.”

“Staged? Why?” I blinked, trying to understand the words spilling from the girl’s mouth.

“I overheard my mama and papa talking about Williams from the bank. He asked for my hand. He’s in his forties and barely has any hair! They said he’d be a good match and I’d be cared for. They were seriously considering setting me up with him. I was thinking about how I could prevent the wedding. They said if they decided to do it, it would be soon. I thought I’d miss the event, or he wouldn’t want me anymore if … if …,” she lowered her voice to a whisper. “If I’d been with another man.”

I stared at her, mouth agape. Did I hear that right? “What?”

“If you had slept with me, we would have had to get married. With you as a son-in-law, my parents might have been happy. But it didn’t work out. You were too decent.”

“You accuse me of being too decent?”

“Yes. No. Oh, Joe, you’re confusing me. I know now it was a stupid idea. But my parents always tell me what I should and shouldn’t do. They don’t give me much freedom. I needed to do something. I didn’t want Williams. I wanted a young man I love. Can you forgive me?” She blinked away the tears rolling down her peach cheeks, her chin trembling.

“So you and Jesse …?” I left the question in the room.

Lottie wiped her eyes, tossed her hair back, and looked at me with defiance sparkling in her eyes. “It had to look convincing, after all. I’m not the pure maiden my parents think I am.”

“It was all a lie.”

“Yes. We spent the whole time hiding in a small deserted cabin behind Sun Mountain.  Jesse dropped me off on the road where someone would find me. We knew the coach would come.”

“But your reputation!”

She shrugged. “Men don’t care about your reputation as long as you have a pretty face. Everything was better than being married to Williams.”

Dumbfounded, I stared at the girl. My judgment had failed. Lottie had deceived not only me but also her parents.

I struggled to keep my eyes open as a wave of exhaustion, partly from Doc’s medication, washed over me, threatening to drag me into oblivion. I fought the pull with all my might. I’d had to know the truth. “Why did your parents let you date me when they wanted you to marry Williams?”

“Nothing was set in stone yet. Maybe they figured one last dinner wouldn’t do any harm while they were deciding on the wedding. I’m so sorry, Joe.” She gestured to my leg. “For all that.”

There was so much I wanted to say. I wanted to ask if she even loved me or if I was just a pawn in her game, but the pull was so strong and my tongue so heavy that all I could do was close my eyes and let my head fall back into the pillow.

“Joe? Joe! Doc! What’s wrong with him?”

I squinted my eyes, trying to block out the screeching voice hurting my ears.

“It’s all right, Miss Woods. The laudanum is kicking in. Please go now,” I heard Paul say from afar as I drifted off into nothingness, where it was calm and peaceful.

 

After fighting my way out of sleep the following day, the smell of medicinal tinctures and muffled voices told me my family stood around my bed, and I was still at Doc’s. Blinking, I opened my eyes. “Hey!” I whispered, licking my dry lips.

Pa rushed over to support me as I pushed my upper body into a sitting position. This wasn’t a good idea. I sucked in a sharp breath as a paralyzing flash of pain raced through my thigh and my chest. With a clenched jaw, I waited for the worst to pass. Oh God, it hurt! Adam or Hoss never seemed to be in such pain when shot.

“Paul, he’s awake!” I heard Hoss call out before stepping beside me, ruffling my hair and scolding, “Geez, Joe. You get into trouble the instant we let you out of sight. You’re lucky to be alive!”

“First gunshot wound, huh?” Adam noted. The corner of his mouth twitched. “Welcome to the tough world of grownups.” He gave me a playful fist bump on the upper arm.

“If I’d known this would make me a man, I’d have gotten shot a lot sooner,” I said with a wry grin, rubbing my thigh above the bandage.

Like countless times before, when I was sick, Pa stuffed pillows behind my back. A glass of water appeared before me and was held to my lips. A calloused hand brushed the hair from my forehead and checked for a fever.

“How are you, son?” Pa’s warm eyes rested on me, and his face showed a mixture of relief, concern, and sympathy.

“I killed a man.” My voice sounded flat and hoarse.

“Yes, but it was in a fight. It was in self-defense. Roy already talked to us. Sometimes, you’ve got no choice but to shoot.”

Paul stepped up beside me, laughing wrinkles in the corners of his eyes as he saw me awake and alert. He handed me a glass with the remains of a powder swirling in the milky water. “Drink this.”

I returned the empty glass, grimacing at the bitterness. “When can I go home?”

The doctor stifled a grin. “I got the bullet out alright. The thigh bone is not broken, but one of your ribs is cracked. You’ll be in pain for a few days, but there’s no permanent damage. I don’t mind if Ben takes you home.”

I was drawn to my name in the newspaper headline on the end table beside me. I picked it up and began to read, though it was tedious as the letters danced and blurred before my eyes. I searched my oldest brother’s gaze. “You read this, Adam.”

Like he was about to recite a poem on stage, Adam folded the paper once and cleared his throat. “Joseph Cartwright shoots wanted man. Joe Cartwright, son of Virginia City’s wealthy rancher Ben Cartwright, shot and killed the thief and swindler Jesse Cooley in a fair fight. When young Cartwright met the man in a saloon and tried to turn him over to the sheriff, a struggle broke out over the gun. Both men fired. Cartwright was wounded, and Cooley was killed.

Some weeks ago, he added kidnapping to his list of crimes. Cooley was the one who abducted a girl and injured Cartwright.

‘It is not too bad about this fella,’ said Sheriff Coffee. ‘We save ourselves a trial and putting the man in jail.’

In all this, the role of bounty hunter Luke Barrett, known as ‘Viper,’ is still unclear. He and Joseph Cartwright have been seen together and seem to be friends. Viper’s only comment to our reporter was that ‘his business in Virginia City is at an end, and he will be moving on to another town.'”

Meanwhile, Pa’d pulled up a chair and sat beside me. “Charlotta Wood’s parents sent their regards. They came by to check on you while you were still asleep. They’re sorry for what happened. Their daughter told them about the whole thing. Mr. Wood wished he could take the harsh words back he’d said to you.”

With a tight mouth, I tugged at a loose thread on my blanket. “Words can’t be taken back,” I mumbled. ‘Neither could a bullet,’ I thought, but I would learn to live with it. “Lottie wasn’t the innocent girl she pretended to be. It takes a lot of nerve to hatch and go through with such a plan.”

Pa nodded in agreement, his hands folded in front of his chin. “Her parents have decided to marry her off to Mr. Williams. He’s a good enough man and will set the girl straight.”

“Maybe that’s for the best.” I sighed. Lottie had achieved the opposite of what she wished. I felt a bit sorry for her, but Pa was right. Williams was a nice man who would keep her settled and cared for.

There was a knock at the door. Viper stuck his head in. Even in my dazed state, I noticed that the mood in the room changed to a crackling tension.

With deep furrows on his brow, Hoss straightened up to his full height and glared at the bounty hunter.

Pa exploded out of the chair and stomped toward Viper, blocking his path. His dark eyes sparkled. “You are the man who put these ideas into my boy’s head! Didn’t Adam make it clear to stay away from Joseph?”

Viper wasn’t impressed. “And I told him he had no business tellin’ me who my friends were.”

“Friends!” Adam stepped next to our father and put one fist on his hip, the other still clutching the Enterprise. His voice was like ice. “Get out of here.”

“Pa!” My strained tone made them both spin around.

“What is it, son? Are you in pain?”

Pulling a grimace, I shifted my weight. ‘Your yelling is giving me a headache,’ I thought. “Please give Viper a moment to see me. He’s not to blame for any of it. It was my decision to search for Jesse.”

Pa took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Undecided, he ran his fingers over the buckle of his holster. “All right. I don’t approve of my son’s dealings with you, mister, but it won’t hurt if you say goodbye. Come on, boys, let’s go get some fresh air.”

I could tell Adam was upset by how he tossed the newspaper into my lap, but he obeyed. Hoss looked at me as if to reassure himself I was okay. My nod made the furrows in his brow disappear. The door shut behind them.

With a wry grin, I exchanged glances with my friend. “Don’t blame them. They’re worried about me.”

“You’re lucky to have a family who cares. I’ve had nobody but my younger sister.”

I pointed to the Territorial Enterprise on my lap to change the subject. “I read in the paper that you’re leaving.”

“Yeah. I never stick around long. Will you be alright?”

“Yep, Doc says so.” Undecided about what to say, I fingered the paper. “Thanks for everything. You taught me a lot.”

I didn’t know what I expected, maybe some pathetic or wise words, but Viper just tipped his hat. “Watch yourself, Joe. Don’t go off the rails. I don’t wanna run into you on the street in a couple of years and have to fight you.”

The imagination made me smile. “Don’t worry, I won’t. I’ve got a feeling I’ll be stuck on the ranch with Pa and my brothers for the rest of my life.”

The End

(June 2024)

Author’s notes: I described the Colt model 1873 they used in the series, a single-action army revolver that did not exist in 1859.