A Reckoning of Rivals (Preview)

Chapter One

Perdition, Oklahoma Territory

July 7, 1889

Jebediah Blackthorne closed his eyes and breathed deeply of the crisp morning air, smiling softly as the rising sun bathed his face. The air was always sweeter and the sun always warmer the morning after a storm.

“It’s beautiful, ain’t it, Jeb?”

Jeb grinned at the thin-featured, dark-haired girl to his left. “Sure is, Dolly.”

As always, she brightened at the fact that Jeb agreed with her. She lived for his approval, and that was just fine with him.

“It’s gonna take weeks to recover from the storm,” a more serious voice to Jeb’s right opined. “That was a lot worse than anyone expected.”

Jeb sighed, but he kept his grin as he turned to Gene Ouray, his best friend and right-hand man. “You’ll figure it out. You always do.”

Gene nodded. “I will. I’m only saying it was worse than we figured it would be.”

Jeb laughed and clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Come on, Gene. Lighten up a bit. Today’s a good day.”

“A wonderful day for a picnic,” Dolly agreed.

“That it is, my dear,” Jeb echoed to Dolly’s delight. He took another deep breath and nodded in satisfaction. “That it is.”

A shuffling sound behind him pulled his attention away from the delights of the morning, and Jeb sighed again, this time letting his grin fade. A moment later, a panicked voice tried and failed to hide its panic behind indignation when it cried out, “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Take your hands off me!”

Without looking back, Jeb said, “Hooper, will you please replace the mayor’s gag?”

“I’m trying, Jeb, but he won’t stand still.”

“This is an outrage!” the mayor added. “I’ll have you all arrested!”

The other members of the Blackthorne Posse laughed at that. Jeb’s smile returned despite his annoyance with Hooper. “So beat him until he’s still.”

More of the mayor’s panic bled through at that comment. “Wait, what—”

His words were cut off with a grunt as Hooper followed his boss’s instructions. Jeb heard three more blows land before Gene said, “All right. That’s enough. We don’t want to kill him yet.”

The mayor groaned, another sound that was cut off quickly, this time from the rolled-up bandana Hooper shoved into his mouth. Jeb nodded in approval as the peace of the morning returned. He looked over at Dolly. She actually looked sort of pretty in the morning light.

He told her so, and she blushed flame-red. “Why thank you, Jeb. You look just as handsome as always.”

Jeb didn’t love her, not really, but it felt nice to have a woman who desired him and didn’t look at him like he was a cockroach. Once he was finished here, he might just take her back to his homestead and let her show him exactly how much she desired him. What the former soiled dove lacked in beauty, she more than made up for in enthusiasm.

“We’ll have to move quickly to keep news from getting out to the marshals,” Gene said. “When we’re done here, I’ll split up the Posse and have them watch the—”

“Gene,” Jeb interrupted, “I came out here to enjoy a lovely breakfast with my lovely lady. I don’t need to be bothered with the details of how you’re going to handle things. Just handle things.”

“All right,” Gene replied. “I just thought you should know since I can’t actually handle things until we’re finished here.”

Jeb rolled his eyes. “I’ll tell you what. We’ll get business out of the way early on. Once that’s over, Dolly and I will finish our breakfast, and you and the boys can do whatever you need to do to keep the marshals off our backs, all right?”

“You got it, boss.”

Gene was chipper again. All it took for that man to be chipper was to have every single detail planned and under his iron-fisted control. Would it kill him to just enjoy the moment for once?

“Oh, Jeb, look! It’s beautiful!”

Jeb lifted his eyes to the redbud tree at the top of the hill and smiled at the deep pink blooms. “It sure is, Dolly.”

“Do you think we could get married under a tree like that one day?”

Not if you were the prettiest girl in all of Oklahoma Territory. “Sure we can. One day.”

The Posse came to a halt at the top of the hill. Jeb dismounted slowly and helped Dolly down. She fell into his arms and melted against him, sighing and holding him tightly. She was thin, but she had enough softness in the right places that Jeb decided he would indeed take her somewhere private later.

They stood under the shade of the redbud while the Posse prepared their meal. Four men unloaded a small wooden table, two chairs—one with a cushion so Dolly could feel special—and a red and white checkered tablecloth. Once the table and chairs were arranged and the tablecloth spread, the men retrieved two baskets, one containing an assortment of pastries, fruit, cheese, and boiled eggs and another holding a bottle of red wine and two glasses.

With the meal ready, Jeb escorted Dolly to the cushioned chair and helped her sit. He took the chair across from her and smiled. “Good morning, my darling.”

She giggled. “Good morning, my love.”

A crashing sound interrupted their peace once again. Jeb rolled his eyes and turned to see Hooper and another man fighting to get the struggling mayor to the redbud tree. The mayor’s gag was securely bound this time so he couldn’t cry out, but his eyes were fixed on the length of rope that two men were positioning over the tree’s strongest branch. The other end of the rope was tied securely around one of the Posse’s horses.

That explained the struggling, although how Mayor Brannagh thought he was going to escape with his arms and legs bound and two dozen armed men surrounding him was beyond Jeb.

“Oh for crying out loud, Hooper,” Dolly cried. “Just kick him already.”

Hooper obliged, placing several hard blows into the mayor’s midsection. The latter stilled, gasping for air and shaking from the pain. Jeb nodded approvingly at Dolly and poured their wine.

“Don’t drink this too fast, Dolly,” he instructed her. “The key to enjoying a good wine is to savor each sip.”

He handed her a glass, then filled her plate with some of the cheese, pastries, and fruit. As he filled his own plate, he heard a whimper from the redbud tree, followed by Gene saying, “Not too tight. We need him alive for now.”

Jeb filled his own plate, enjoying the irritation he knew was growing on Gene’s face as he delayed their business. Served Gene right being such a worrywart. What could possibly go wrong when Jeb’s own brother was the sheriff here?

He lifted a grape and held it up next to his wine glass. “You know,” he said, loudly enough that the bound mayor could hear, “grapes have got to be just about the best fruit on Earth. They’re sweet, nutritious, and satisfying—and when you let the juice ferment, you get wine, one of God’s oldest and greatest gifts to humanity.”

He nodded at Hooper, and Hooper pulled the gag off of Brannagh’s face. The mayor was in tears now, all pretense of indignation erased by the grip of the rope around his neck. 

“What do you want?” he begged. 

Jeb frowned, mildly surprised by the mayor’s foolish question. “I want everything.”

“I’ve given you everything. You… you have the entire town. Your brother is the sheriff even though he lost the election ten to one. You have water rights for the whole area. The ranchers have to pay you taxes on every head of cattle they sell. The women—”

Gene lashed out, slapping Brannagh hard before the hapless mayor could say something that might make things awkward with Dolly. Brannagh cried out and wept, “What more can I give you?”

Jeb ate a piece of cheese and pondered that question. “That’s a good point, Mayor,” he said. “You can’t give me anything else, can you? I already have everything you can give me. Which means you’re not worth anything to me anymore.”

Brannagh’s eyes flew open. “No. No, look. I… you need someone to deal with the law.”

“As you’ve pointed out, my brother is the law now.”

“He’s the law in town, but what about the marshals? The U.S. Marshals are in the territory now. They’ll…” He caught himself. “If they find out about you, they’ll come and kill you.”

“If they hear rumors and come to investigate them, they’ll find a calm and well-ordered town run by a hardworking sheriff and a dedicated mayor.”

Brannagh’s eyes widened again, this time with hope. “A mayor?”

“Yes. Mr. Ouray will be stepping into the role to fill the hole left behind by your departure.”

Jeb’s spirits lifted as he watched Brannagh blanch. There were few joys in life as pure as the joy of watching hope die.

“But… why?”

Jeb laughed. “Why not?”

“Please…”

“I apologize,” Jeb interrupted. “That was rude of me. I’ll give you a better explanation. Gene is going to be the mayor because Gene is what the academics call a highly organized individual. He can see a lot of different things all at once and figure out how to fit them all together and make them work like one machine. He’s what other academics might call a social engineer. In fact—and I say this without intending you any disrespect—I think he’s more qualified to be the mayor of Perdition than you are.”

Brannagh’s eyes flicked nervously around the gathered Posse. “But I’ve been the mayor of Perdition for twenty-four years.”

“See that’s another thing,” Jeb said, pausing to take a bite out of a blueberry muffin. “Twenty-four years is too long to be the mayor of anything. Even the President of the United States only gets to be president for four or eight years.”

“He could be the president for longer,” Hooper pointed out. “Only it’s never happened before. But he could be elected for a third term.”

There were times when Jeb thought he should just kill Hooper. The man was loyal and dependable, but good God, he was stupid. “Well, there’s a reason he’s never been elected for a third term. Maybe you should let me finish my point.”

Hooper paled and fell silent. At least he was smart enough to know when he was being warned.

“As I was saying,” Jeb continued, “it’s not good for one man to lead anything for very long. They get complacent. Things get stagnant. Towns atrophy. Do you know what atrophy means, Mayor Brannagh?”

“Please…”

“No, it doesn’t mean please.”

“Jeb…”

“Mr. Blackthorne asked you a question,” Gene said.

Brannagh’s lip trembled. He swallowed and said hoarsely. “It means they weaken.”

“Exactly!” Jeb replied. “They weaken. The West is a lawless place, Brannagh. It’s getting to be civilized quickly enough in places like Colorado and Texas and Nevada, but Oklahoma Territory is going to take a lot longer. If people are going to survive out here, they need to be strong. We can’t afford to have old, weak men running old, weak towns. Do you understand?”

The last of Brannagh’s hope died. Jeb drank in that look, savoring it. It was sweeter than any wine, sweeter than the love of any woman, even one like Dolly, so desperate for approval she’d do anything Jeb asked.

He expected the mayor to weep. But the mayor didn’t weep. Instead, his eyes hardened as he lifted them to Jeb, and in a stronger voice than Jeb had ever heard from him, he said, “You’ll get what’s coming to you, Jeb. The powers that be will find out about you. Then they’ll show you just how small you really are.”

Jeb’s smile faded. He stood and approached the mayor, walking forward until he was only a yard from Brannagh’s face. 

“See, that’s where you’re wrong, Brannagh. I have power. That’s why Sheriff Bart is buried under a rock a hundred miles from here. That’s why you’re bound at the wrists and ankles with a noose around your neck. That’s why you’re going to die in a few moments, and it’s why absolutely no one will avenge you. No one will come for me. No one will oppose me. I’m not going to get what’s coming to me, Brannagh. I’m going to take it. That’s what men with real power do.”

Brannagh spit on him. Jeb flinched, and the others gasped, shocked that anyone would dare strike their boss that way. Anger boiled up in Jeb, white-hot and searing. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

Then he beat Brannagh. His first blow staggered the mayor, and Brannagh gasped as the rope tightened around his neck. Jeb followed that with a knee to the mayor’s groin. Brannagh dropped, but doing that cinched the rope tightly around his neck. He forced himself to stand, his knees trembling. Fear replaced the courage in his eyes as he realized that death was coming for him now.

Jeb grabbed Brannagh’s chin with his left hand, measuring the distance. With a grunt, he drove his right fist into Brannagh’s jaw. The mayor slumped, unconscious, but he woke a few seconds later when the rope tightened around his windpipe, cutting off his breath.

Jeb nodded at Hooper, and Hooper slapped the rump of the horse to which the rope was tied. The horse jumped and trotted forward. The rope cinched shut, lifting Brannagh off of the ground. 

He watched the life fade from Brannagh’s eyes as the man kicked uselessly. His own men were dead silent, awed as they always were by their boss’s ruthlessness. 

Jeb waited until it was over, then nodded in satisfaction. “Cut him down. Bury him wherever. Gene, go do whatever you need to do to keep people from running to the marshals.”

His men hurried to comply. Jeb walked back to Dolly, frowning. He’d thought killing Brannagh would make him feel better, but the brief moment of courage the mayor had shown had spoiled his breakfast.

Dolly looked at him like he was some kind of demigod. “That was so good,” she crooned. “Do you want to finish this breakfast at your house?” She smiled slightly. “Or we could do something else if you want.”

Jeb kept his eyes averted so she wouldn’t see his disgust. The mayor had ruined two good things. “I can’t,” he told Dolly. “I need to go to the Benson Ranch.”

Dolly frowned. “The Benson Ranch? Why?”

Jeb finished his wine and set the glass on the table. “I have some business to take care of.”

He left Dolly before she could protest. As he mounted his horse and started toward the ranch, he thought of the woman he really wanted and wished that he had the power to make her want him, too. But there were some things that no power on earth could gain.

He looked over his shoulder at the mayor’s lifeless body, swinging slowly in the breeze while Jeb’s Posse dug his grave. It should have made Jeb happy to see that.

But he only felt anger.

 

Chapter Two

Three months later

Matthew Benson drained his glass and grinned at the bartender. “Damn. That’s good stuff.”

“One hundred percent pure bourbon,” the bartender informed him. “Got it from my cousin in Kentucky.”

“Well, one good shot deserves another,” Matt said, laying another coin on the bar. “Fill ‘er up.”

The bartender smiled drily. “Seems like you’ve had more than a few already.”

“Yes, more than a few,” Matt admitted, “but I’m celebrating.”

The bartender took the coin and poured another shot. “What are you celebrating?”

“Homecoming. I just finished driving five thousand head of cattle to Montana. Now I’m on my way home.”

“That so? Congratulations.”

“Thank you kindly.”

The bartender handed him the shot. “Where’s home, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Oklahoma Territory.”

“Oh? Not too far from here, then.”

“Nope, not far at all. Should reach it in a couple days’ time.”

The bartender had been wiping down the bar with a rag, but now he paused. “What town did you say you were from?”

“Perdition.”

The bartender’s smile vanished. He stood still a moment longer, then nodded. “I see. Well, safe travels.”

Matt frowned. “What’s wrong with Perdition?”

The bartender hesitated for a moment before shaking his head. “Nothing. I just remembered I have some chores to take care of tomorrow that I should have done today. No big deal.”

Matt continued to frown. Something in the bartender’s words didn’t seem right. Or maybe it was that his shoulders were tense now when they were relaxed before.

The bartender smiled. “You know what, stranger? Have another shot of bourbon on me.” He poured Matt another shot and slid it over. “For good measure.”

Matt smiled and accepted the shot. “Well, thank you kindly, sir.”

It must have just been his imagination that the bartender seemed nervous. He didn’t mind chores himself, but he could see how it might frustrate a man to forget they needed to get done and have to add to his work the next day.

The bartender tapped the counter for a few seconds, then said, “Hey, if you’re spending the night, we have some new girls from Louisiana. Pretty as peaches and soft as a down comforter. You give me a dollar for one, I’ll let you have the other for free.”

He winked at Matt and gestured to the other end of the room. Matt turned to see two young women smiling demurely at him. They wore the low-cut dresses and messy hair of soiled doves. One lifted the hem of her skirt to show him that she wasn’t wearing any bloomers. Likely no underwear at all.

They were indeed beautiful, but there was no woman alive who could hold a candle to Patty. Matt reached into his shirt pocket and fished out his wedding ring. He grinned at the bartender. “I appreciate the offer, but I’ve got the prettiest woman in the world waiting for me at home.”

The bartender lifted an eyebrow. “Well, that’s fine, but shouldn’t you be wearing that on your finger instead of getting my girls’ hopes up only to let ‘em down?”

Matt chuckled as he slid the ring into place on his left hand. “You know what? I should. I kept it in my pocket so I didn’t lose it on the drive, but the drive’s over.” He fished three more coins from his pocket and left them on the counter. “One for you and one for each of them. As an apology for disappointing them.”

The bartender took the coins and grinned. “I’m sure they’ll be more than satisfied with your apology.”

Matt slid off the barstool and steadied himself. He wasn’t sure how many shots of whiskey he’d drunk, but it would be an interesting walk back to the boarding house. He almost decided to stay and ask for a room here anyway, but he’d heard stories of men who’d fallen asleep drunk and woken up with a woman in their bed demanding money. He’d rather not have it look even for a moment like he was stepping out on Patty.

He tipped his hat to the bartender and again to the two women on his way out. They waggled their fingers at him and giggled to each other as he passed. He hoped they would find two single cowboys to make happy tonight, and he hoped those cowboys would make them happy, too. He hoped everyone would be happy. He was happy, and the world should be happy along with him.

He hummed a song as he walked down the cow town’s small main street toward the boarding house. There weren’t a lot of towns like this left in America. The railroad had spread its fingers to just about every corner of the nation, and most ranches had moved to sending their cattle via rail rather than driving large herds across thousands of miles of land, braving bandits, rustlers, disease, and storms. The ranch Matt had just worked for told him that this was the last drive they were hiring. From now on, they’d be moving their product by rail, too.

They’d offered him a job as a deputy foreman. It was a good offer, but Matt had declined. He’d made enough money from this drive to settle his debts. He could sell his ranch and take Patty away from Perdition, someplace where the weather would help her condition. Maybe California.

He smiled as he thought about Patty gazing out across the Pacific as they sat on the porch of their little seaside cottage. He could get a job with the Port of Los Angeles, and they could live like real city folk. He could buy her a lacy black dress and real kid-leather shoes.

He could trade in his ten-gallon Stetson for a bowler hat and his canvas shirt for a wool suit. He could carry a silver-tipped cane instead of a gun and discuss politics with his friends at the pub instead of dodging soiled doves at saloons.

He chuckled at the image, but his smile remained. He didn’t know about the silver-tipped cane and kid-leather shoes, but he was serious about leaving Oklahoma behind. The West was changing. The lawless frontiers were becoming far less lawless and far less of a frontier.

People were civilizing and organizing. Soon, towns like this one and even homesteader towns like Perdition would either be swallowed up by big cities or they’d disappear as people left them for better opportunities and more peaceful climates. Territories like Arizona and Oklahoma would become states like Wyoming Territory was about to do.

The day of the cowboy was coming to an end. Matt would miss it, but if he was being honest, he wouldn’t miss it that much. He’d had his youth. He was ready to take Patty somewhere warm and dry and gentle and live an easy life with her. Maybe, when she grew a little stronger, they might even start a family.

“Howdy there, stranger.”

Matt turned to the voice and found himself face to face with two men. They wore easy smiles, but both kept their hands on their revolvers and their eyes were hard as they stared at him.

Matt’s instincts told him it would be a fight before his inebriated mind realized it. He rested his hand on his own revolver and returned the men an equally hard-eyed smile. “Good evening. Were you two just at the saloon?”

The man who had spoken before chuckled. “As a matter of fact, we was. Heard you telling Nathan all about your cattle drive. Seems like you did pretty well for yourself.”

“That’s right,” the other man agreed. “You were real generous with those girls. I’m a little sore about that, to tell you the truth, because I was hoping to see if the redhead might join me upstairs. Once she had your dollar, though, she didn’t want mine. No hard feelings, though. I’m not the sort of man to punish someone for generosity. Besides, there’s always tomorrow night, right?”

“Sure is,” Matt replied, “for those who survive to see it.”

A shadow crossed the faces of the two men as they heard the warning in Matt’s voice. They gave each other a sideways look, apparently considering whether they wanted to go through with the robbery.

Unfortunately for them, they proceeded. They looked back at Matt, and the first one said, “I wonder if we might appeal to your generosity a little more. You see, we’re tired from a long journey of our own, and we’ve spent our last dime on drinks. If you had a few dollars to spare, we’d be much obliged to you.”

“What happened to the dollar your friend didn’t give the girl?” Matt asked. “Did you drink that too?”

Their smiles faded. The second man—he of the unspent dollar—said, “All right, stranger. You’ve had your laugh. If you take us seriously from here on out, we’ll let you have your life, too.”

“We want it all,” the first man said. “Empty your pockets. We want every cent you earned driving…”

His voice trailed off. He blinked and stared at Matt’s hands in wonder. A moment ago, Matt had been standing with his hand on the butt of his revolver, just like them. Now Matt’s gun was in his hand, aimed squarely at the speaker’s forehead.

“You boys might be the only example I’ve ever seen of stupidity saving someone’s life instead of ending it,” Matt said. “When most people rob a traveler, they come on him with their guns already drawn. Since you didn’t do that, I don’t have to shoot you two.”

“How the hell did you clear leather so fast?”

“I’m faster and more dangerous than you,” Matt replied matter-of-factly. “The sad thing is that if you’d just kept to your polite request, I’d have given you each two dollars. But you got greedy, and—like I said earlier—stupid. So here’s what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna take your gun belts off and toss them to me. Then you’re going to walk back to your horses and ride out of here. I’m going to watch you do that, and if I see either of you again in my life, I’ll just shoot you, no questions asked.”

He waited for the men to comply. When they only stared at him, stunned, he snapped, “Now!”

They flinched, then reluctantly unbuckled their gun belts and tossed them at Matt’s feet. “We’ll see you again,” the first one promised.

“Bye, now,” Matt replied drily.

They turned red and clenched their fists, but they couldn’t really do anything against him unarmed. They turned slowly and trudged back to their horses. Matt waited until they were mounted up and riding away from town, then collected the guns and headed into the boarding house. He’d turn the weapons over to the sheriff in the morning.

He went upstairs and got ready for bed, shaking his head at the foolishness outside. That was another thing he wouldn’t miss. It would be nice to live in a place where people weren’t trying to rob and kill each other all the time. 

His smile returned quickly, though. Soon, he would see Patty, and everything would be all right. Better than all right. He’d be with her, right where he belonged.

He closed his eyes and let the dream of Patty resting in his arms satisfy him in a way no soiled dove ever could.