her empty closet, turned around, and reached up high. “There you are…Hello there, Winnie, long time no see.” And he lifted “her” down, Jeff’s .44-40 Winchester fourteen-shot saddle carbine rifle, that he’d hidden there before he went to jail. She’d been resting up there, fully loaded, for almost three years. Now he had his gold coins and he had Winnie, and she felt damn good by his side.
“These are my first two chores, Sally,” Jeff whispered softly. “Now I got three more chores to get done, then it’ll be over and finished.” His hot blood had long since cooled down. Now he was executing his long-thought-out plans—in cold blood.
It was early dark; the moon’s rise wasn’t due for a while. Jeff was bone-tired after sitting a horse for mostly all day. He wasn’t hungry for food; he was hungry for blood, but right now, he needed some rest.
“No fire, Ed, just a cold supper of jerky.”
“That’s all we’re having?” Ed asked.
“Yep, snuff that candle too, we may need it later. Now let’s get some sleep,” Jeff replied as he rolled over into his blanket with his six-gun in his right fist.
“Ah, darn it, Jeff, I’m really hungry.”
“Well, damn it, Ed, you can eat some of our jerky, can’t you?”
With Winnie close by, just in case, Jeff relaxed. He’d had a long day, and he’d used some muscles today he hadn’t used in almost three years. He wanted to dream again of Sally. “I’ll start tomorrow, Sally,” he whispered. “I’ll finish this business with Murphy once and all. For both of us, I promise, Sally…so tired.” His thoughts eased some, and they backed off, into the darkness of night, and Jeff slipped into a deep sleep, and he dreamed of sweet and lovely long-ago times, of Sally and himself, when they were laughing and happy and in love.
Chapter Three
Jeff opened his eyes; he had a sour taste in his mouth. His eyes circled the room then looked at his pocket watch. It was way past dawn. They’d overslept. Daylight was already streaming in thru the open windows. Mornings here at the top of this hill, this time of the year, his ranch was always cold and damp. Jeff had forgotten. Now he remembered how he used to scrooch with Sally in their four-poster bed on the cold mornings. He’d gotten use to warmer weather where he’d been living. It seemed close to freezing on top of this hill in the mornings before the sun comes up. Of course, there’s no window glass in the house to keep the cold outside where it belonged, he remembered.
“Ed, get up.” Jeff slipped on his boots, he stomped twice to settle his toes into their places, and then on one knee, he used Ed’s dry kindling and some cottonwood fluff to start a small fire in the fireplace. Once burning, it would show no smoke out the chimney in case anyone happen to ride close enough this way. “Can’t be too careful and let Murphy know I’m already out of jail,” he murmured. Ed was up, moving slow as molasses, as usual.
“How ’bout I make us some breakfast?” Ed said. “I’ll cook it and—”
“No time, just coffee now. We’ll eat some jerky on the way. Get moving, Ed,” replied Jeff.
“I’m moving, Jeff.”
The small fire felt good. It helped to take the chill off his bones. Jeff took two sips of water from his canteen to wash the fuzz off his teeth and swallowed; he wet his kerchief, washed his face, squeezed out the water, and put the damp kerchief back around his neck. “Here, you need some water?” Ed took the canteen, filled the small coffeepot, added some Arbuckle’s coffee and set the pot on the fire, then as he squatted down by the hearth to warm his hands, he yawned and scratched under both his arms. Ed took a sip of water as he watched Jeff nearby.
Jeff removed Winnie’s cover, rolled it up, and put in it his saddlebag, then he levered her, injecting a .44-40 shell from her belly into her barrel and eased down her hammer. He slipped another shell in the side slot. Now she was full up. Winnie was ready for travel. He checked his Colt. It had five bullets in the cylinder as he spun it. He’d add another one when needed. he was safe for now with five.
Jeff was silent until Ed handed him a steaming cup of coffee; he took a sip, then he spoke. “I want to be at Murphy’s place by sundown. I want to kill that son of a bitch before dark today.”
“Ed, I surely missed your Arbuckle’s while I was in that place. What they served us wasn’t fit to drink most of the time.”
“Thanks, Jeff, I’m glad about the coffee, and I’m glad you’re out of that jail and back home. It’s been a long spell and I’ve been used some and have barely got by without you being here. I sure do hope you stay out of jail for good. Are you planning on getting us some more cattle? I still want to keep working for you, when this mess is all over with.”
“Yep, we’re gonna get some more cattle. I told you when you started, if I liked your work, you’d have a job with me for the rest of your life. Remember?” “Now let’s go,” Jeff added. “You ready?”
“Yeah, I’m good, let’s git.” Ed poured the remaining coffee on the fire and followed Jeff outside. He stowed the coffeepot and two tin cups in his saddlebag. The sun was up now, with a few scattered clouds. No rain fell last night. That was good; the creeks would still be low enough to cross. It had the beginnings of a judgment day, a day of reckoning.
Both men stood at the corral watching the mare; she was still favoring her off front leg. “She’s not doing so good. See there, she can’t put all her full weight on that leg.”
“Yeah, I see,” replied Jeff. “I think we’d best leave her here. Take her over to the water trough, take off her halter, and leave her on her own. She’ll mend herself in time,” he added.
“She is a damn fine little pony, easy riding and very gentle. I hate to leave her. That hole she stepped in almost done her in. She was darn lucky she didn’t break her leg.”
“Yeah, she would’ve broke it for sure if we’d still been riding hard. It was a lucky thing for us we was only trotting, huh, Jeff?”
“Yeah, and we’re lucky she was close to the ranch when she hurt it. You did really good, Ed, picking out these two horses.”
“She’ll be okay here, lonesome maybe, but she’s got plenty of water and there’s good grazing. She has the barn for shelter if she needs it. Maybe she’d be here when we return, if we do return.”
“Damn it, Jeff, don’t say such dreadful things. What about your saddle?”
“Leave it here,” said Jeff. “Put it in the barn, out of the weather. I’ll come back for it, someday. You saddle your horse. We’ll ride double some, and I’ll walk beside you some. Maybe we’ll come across another horse.”
“Before we leave, I want to see Sally’s grave, Ed. Show me where you and her papa buried her.”
“Sure, Jeff, just follow me, I’ll show you.”
They walked a short way from the ranch house; there was a small wooden cross marking her grave.
“Well, I’ll be, her daddy musta done that, Jeff. It wasn’t me, but I like it, don’t you?”
“Yeah, it’ll do for now. I like this spot, Ed. I’ll be able to see her stone from the
