The Gunman

by jfclover

Chapter 1

No matter what I said, Pa wouldn’t believe me.  As much as I tried to convince him there’d been someone in the yard, he told me I must’ve been dreaming, that no one would ride this far from town in the middle of the night, but I wasn’t a liar.  I was angry with my father.  A man we didn’t know found his way to the ranch sometime around midnight.  He stood in the yard and looked straight at my window.  End of story.

By the time Pa and I sat down for breakfast, I tried to put the stranger out of my mind, but he was still floating around in my head.  I knew what I saw, and it scared me.

“Good morning, Son.”

“Morning, Pa.”

“You okay this morning?”

“I’m fine.”

I was far from fine, and I didn’t feel much like eating, but Pa’s eyes bore straight through me, watching and waiting for me to devour my meal like a good little boy.  “Eat up, Joe.  We have a lot to do today.”

“Yessir.”

I shoveled a few bites of egg and downed the smallest biscuit I could find on the platter before wiping my mouth and pushing my chair back.  “I’ll saddle the horses.”

“Thanks, Joe.  I’ll be out in a minute.”

Clouds formed early that morning, but spring was like that.  Great weather one day and rain or snow the next.  My brothers rode out yesterday for Placerville to get the final signature on a timber contract.  As soon as they returned, we’d do nothing for the next two weeks but cut and stack lumber into wagons and drive the heavy loads to town.  Even though the owner lived in Placerville, he’d built a saloon in Sacramento, and his newest venture was planned for our very own Virginia City. 

Since he’d broken his wrist last week, I didn’t know how much help Hoss would be.  The doc had set his hand and most of his forearm in plaster, and it would be another month before he was worth his weight again.  It was up to the rest of us to load and stack, which is why Pa and I only had today and tomorrow to check the cattle.  We had two large herds, and we’d kept them fed all winter.  It was time for them to begin foraging and not rely on us to keep them fat and sassy.

We rode single file, which suited me just fine.  I was in no mood for chit-chat.  The strange man was all I could think about.  With his dark hat tipped back off his forehead, he stared up at my window, and Pa didn’t care.  He thought I was crazy, but I wasn’t.  I was hardly a child who was plagued by silly nightmares.

I always slept with my lamp turned low, and when I woke and stood next to my window looking out for the second night in a row, I didn’t think he could see me or my silhouette until I stepped forward and saw him tip his hat.  Then I knew for sure.  A stranger in the dark, and a father who doubted my word.  It frightened me.

Would my brothers believe me if they hadn’t ridden to Placerville?  Adam might’ve rolled his eyes, but Hoss would’ve stood up for me and realized the possibility was real, that I didn’t tell tales, that I truly believed.

Today was our second day staring at beeves and doing a mental count.  They seemed to be doing well without our help.  Green shoots of grass were beginning to grow, and if we didn’t have another big snow, the cattle would manage just fine.  The pride in my father’s eyes was genuine.  He loved the land, and he loved our way of life.  A man could enjoy the benefits of his labors if he was willing to put his heart and soul in the land.  That was Pa’s motto, and he had us all convinced that hard work was the key to a happy life.  A man was measured by his accomplishments.  No one got something for nothing.

Supper was a quiet affair.  Without my brothers teasing or twisting my words, there wasn’t much banter.  I only had one thing on my mind, and I couldn’t discuss it with Pa.  How could I tell him I was terrified the sun would go down, and it would be time for bed?  How could I tell him I wasn’t about to change into a nightshirt and crawl between the covers, that I planned to sit by my window and keep watch throughout the night? 

I’d survived two nights of a stranger watching my window, but how long would my luck last?  He wanted something.  He wasn’t standing in the yard just to pass the time of day … or night.  Did he know Pa and I were at odds over his persistence?  Did he care?   Pa didn’t ask, and I didn’t mention his second arrival.  There was no need.  He wouldn’t believe me anyway.

It wasn’t until after midnight that I had trouble keeping my eyes from closing.  I tried everything.  I got out of my chair and paced the room like an army private in training.  I squatted and stood tall and repeated enough times that I was wide awake.  I couldn’t do anything noisy.  I didn’t want Pa running into my room and realizing I never went to bed.

I waited for the stranger to appear, but it wasn’t to be.  He never came.  He never stood outside my window and tipped his hat.  Just before dawn, I crawled into bed.  I was too tired to watch any longer.

It felt like I’d just gone to sleep when Pa jostled my shoulder.  “Time to get up, Little Joe.”

With the blanket pulled over my shoulder, Pa couldn’t see that I slept in my clothes, that I’d never slipped into my nightshirt and planned to stay awake all night.  He’d think all that business about a stranger was just a dream, that it was gone from my mind, but Pa’s thinking was far from the truth.  What I saw had been real.

I crawled out of bed, removed my wrinkled shirt and pants, slipped on fresh, clean clothes, and headed down to breakfast.  Pa had the day planned.  He had business in town and hoped I would clean the tack and polish the remaining saddles while he was gone.

Would Pa ever realize I was a man and not a little boy?  I finished my schooling last spring and working in the barn was a job for a hired hand, not a top hand like me.  But … Pa was the boss, and I had no choice but to do his bidding. It didn’t mean I had to like it.  If Pa was gone all day, at least I’d have time for a nap.

By noon, I was a dead man.  My eyelids were so heavy, I didn’t bother Hop Sing about lunch.  Instead, I grabbed a horse blanket and snuggled down in a pile of fresh straw.  I’d cleaned all the stalls and straightened the tack.  All I had left were the saddles, and those could be done later in the afternoon.  I was ahead of the game.  Pa would never know I sluffed off in the middle of the day.

I woke to Pa clearing his throat.  He’d caught me napping, and boy, was I in trouble.  After rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I turned toward my father before he had a chance to speak.  I had an excuse on the tip of my tongue, but the person standing before me wasn’t my pa.  It was him … the stranger with the dark hat stood over me with a sanctimonious smile plastered across his pale, freckled face.  I didn’t understand, and I shuffled through the straw until my back was against the barn wall.  The stranger wasn’t a man at all.  He was just a boy, and he held a pistol at waist level.

“What do you want?  Why are you here?”

I waited for the boy to speak, but he just stood there.  Was he tongue–tied?  That was doubtful.  He’d pulled his gun.  He was on a mission, but I was baffled by his silence.  I didn’t want to make him mad and after my initial questions, I thought it better that I kept silent.

I didn’t recognize the kid, and I knew a lot of families in Storey County.  People moved west all the time, especially miners, but those men usually came alone.  Rarely did they bring their families with them.  If they struck it rich, that was a different story, and they’d send for their loved ones, but most prospectors didn’t have that kind of luck.  Most ended up with nothing but the clothes on their backs and a few pennies in their pockets. 

The kid looked ragged and nearly starved.  I doubt he had any pennies in his pocket at all.  At fourteen or fifteen, he was tall and thin and blond and held his gun steady.  One thing I knew for sure.  If I wasn’t dead before Pa returned, he owed me his best apology.  The stranger had finally made his move. 

“Stand up, Boy.”

Boy?  He had a lot of nerve calling me boy.  I did as he asked, but now I was mad, insulted by a little rat holding a gun, and not a damn thing I could do.

“Move.”

“Yessir.”  I moved out of the stall and headed for the barn doors.  “What now?”

“Go to the house.”

“All right.”

The boy’s voice was odd, sort of nasal, and higher than I would’ve expected for a kid his age.  I held my hands up so the rat could see them and not do anything stupid.  Figuring Pa wouldn’t be back for at least an hour or two, I didn’t hurry.  I’d keep the kid entertained, and maybe I could take him.  If he let his guard down, I’d be ready to pounce.

I walked inside the house and almost slammed the door in his face, but if his gun went off by accident, I’d be dead.  It didn’t seem like a good move, so I crossed the room and sat on the arm of the settee.  “What now?”

“You have a safe?”

“Yeah.”

“Open it.”

“Why?”

“Why?”  His voice rose at least an octave. 

“What do you expect to find in the safe?”

“Are you dense?”

I jumped up from the settee.  “Do I look dense?”

“You act dense.”

“Well, I’m not.”

“Then open the safe.”

“Fine.”

If Pa knew I argued with a gunman, he’d think I’d lost my mind, and maybe I had, but I wasn’t about to let the little rat get the best of me in my own house.  I had an ounce or two of pride.

I turned the dial forward and back to random numbers.  “Shoot.  That’s not it.  I’m trying to remember what my father told me.  I’ve never opened the safe before.”

“That’s because you’re dense.”

I stood and whirled around.  “I’m not dense!”

The rat smiled.  “Your father must think so.”

“No, he doesn’t.”

“Then open the safe.”

A shot aimed close to my left foot scared me half to death.  I guess the rat meant business.  I knelt on one knee and opened the safe.  I knew the combination by heart, and stalling hadn’t gotten me anywhere but insulted.  Oh, and shot at.

Pa rode to town to pick up the payroll.  The kid wouldn’t be happy when the only money in the small iron box was two tens and a five, but I couldn’t stall any longer.

I picked up the cash.  “Here.”

“What’s this?”

“It’s yours if you leave now and never come back.”

With his free hand, the rat fingered the three bills.  “Twenty-five dollars?”

“I’m sorry.  That’s all there is.  I have a few coins upstairs, but we never keep much money in the house.”

The atmosphere in the room changed.  The tension vanished, and the static in the air seemed to evaporate.  The look on the rat’s face wasn’t that of a robber or someone who might kill for money.  He looked like he might fall apart and cry.  

“Do you want me to get those coins?”

I took a step forward, and the gunman came alive.  “Stop.  Don’t move.”

I lifted my hands above my shoulders.  “You’re the boss.”

“Where’s everybody else?”

I glanced at the grandfather clock.  “Pa and my brothers should be home any minute.  You’d be smart to leave before they get here.”

It was only a little white lie.  I wanted to scare him enough that he wouldn’t hang around and overpower or hurt my father.  I didn’t want him to get his grubby hands on our payroll either.

We both turned to the sound of beating hooves.  Pa had returned.  He hadn’t stayed to play a game of chess with Paul or have a cold beer with the sheriff, and he would walk into a house where an unstable man held a gun on his youngest son.  The robbery could go downhill fast.  Anything could go wrong, and I couldn’t let that happen. 

I pitched headlong into the unsuspecting gunman.  Using my weight, I flattened the rat to the floor, but he managed to fire one shot before I knocked the gun from his hand and watched it slide toward the stairs.  I waited for the pain, but it never came.  His shot must’ve gone wide.  But when I looked toward the open front door, my father lay prone on the floor.

“No!”  Crawling on my hands and knees, I rushed to my father’s side and leaned in close.  “Pa?  Can you hear me?”  I turned toward the rat.  “What the hell’s wrong with you?  You shot my pa.”

The rat’s face fell.  He sat back on his heels and dropped his head.  The robbery seemed unimportant, as did the gun.  Pa was my only priority, and when his eyes opened, I pressed my hand against his chest.  “Wha … what happened?”

“You’ve been shot.  Just lie still.”  My father started to rise, but he was spent and couldn’t move.  “Where were you hit?”

“My side.”  He moved his hand forward, and that’s when I realized blood was starting to pool on the floor.  Not loads of blood, but enough to know I had to act fast.

When I looked back at the kid responsible, he’d taken off his hat, and his face was wet with tears.  “You ain’t no boy.”  I couldn’t believe my eyes.  Golden blonde hair flowed nearly to her waist.  Was I a fool?   How could I have made such a critical mistake?  I didn’t have time to dwell on my stupidity.  “Go boil some water.  My pa’s hurt.”

“I don’t know—”

“The kitchen’s that way.  Put the water on to boil, and in the lower cupboard, there’s a wicker basket filled with alcohol and bandages.  Go now!” 

She seemed to come alive.  I didn’t want to leave my father, and I prayed she’d do as I asked and not slip out the back door.  I needed her help.  I couldn’t tend Pa by myself.

I hadn’t noticed how wet Pa’s coat was until I tried to remove his arm from the sleeve.  How long had it been raining?  Did it even matter?  I couldn’t lift my father by myself.  Even the two of us would have trouble getting him into bed without hurting him further.  If the bullet only grazed him, I’d thank God for the rest of my life.  If not …

After removing Pa’s coat and grabbing a pillow from the settee to slip under his head, I pulled his shirt from his trousers and saw the gash the bullet had left in his side.  I remembered what Paul Martin usually did, and I pressed my fingers against the skin around the wound.  I didn’t feel anything hard and hoped my doctoring thoughts were right.

“Joe …”

“I’m right here, Pa.  I’ll have you fixed up in no time.”  When he reached for the wound, I pushed his hand away.  “Don’t touch.  I need to get some supplies.  Hang on, okay?”

“Don’t worry, Son.  I’ll be fine.”

The girl had a clean cloth draped over her arm and had just poured hot water into one of Hop Sing’s large roasting pots.  Without looking me in the eye, she scurried from the kitchen and through the dining room.  I grabbed the basket of supplies and followed close behind.

I knelt on the floor next to my father.  After soaking the cloth in the roasting pan, I pressed it tight against his side.  Pa flinched, but he didn’t cry out, so I rinsed and repeated two more times.  The wound looked clean enough, at least I hoped it was.  I took out the bottle of alcohol and drizzled it down the four-inch gash.

I made the girl hold a clean cloth against the wound while I wrapped the strip of bandage around Pa’s middle.  When we were finished, I sat back on my heels and sighed with relief. 

Pa reached for my forearm and gently tapped.  “You did good, Son.”

“Thanks, but I need to get you into bed.  I’m gonna lift you now.  You ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

So far, Pa turned out to be a better patient than I’d ever be, and once the girl and I settled Pa on the bed in the guest room, I poured him a glass of brandy.  Guess I should’ve thought of that earlier, but I hoped it would numb some of the pain, and he could sleep awhile.

Pa would live.  Had things turned out different, I might’ve failed him, and he might have died.  Then there was the girl, the twenty-five dollars she tried to steal, and the fact that she shot my father.  Under normal circumstances, I’d take her to the sheriff, but I couldn’t leave the house.  My brothers were gone, and our hired hands had been given a couple of days off.  Even Hop Sing had been granted a vacation to San Francisco. 

The plan was for Pa and me to fend for ourselves, to see if we could manage the ranch on our own.  We were roughing it for a week.  Kind of an adventure, but a robbery wasn’t in the cards.  I didn’t even know the girl’s name.  It was time to play detective and get a few things straight.

Staring into the fire, she sat in Adam’s chair.  She didn’t move a muscle when I approached.  “My name’s Joe.”

“Yes, I know.”

“Do you have a name?”

“Elizabeth, but I mostly go by Lizzy.”

I sat on the hearth in front of the rat and really looked at her.  She wasn’t as young as I thought.  She might’ve been older than me, but I didn’t ask.  The age of a thief didn’t matter.  “We have a problem here.”

“Yes, I know.”

“You robbed me at gunpoint.”

“Yes, I know.”

“Is that all you can say?  Aren’t you sorry?  You shot my father!”

“I never meant to hurt no one.”

“But you did.  You could’ve killed him.”

She looked toward the guest room as if she could see Pa lying there.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t want to hurt nobody.  Honest.  I just needed …”

“Money.  So you decided to steal from the Cartwrights, from a family who works hard every day, but you don’t care about that.  You want money for nothing, don’t you?  Did you ever think about getting a job?”

She didn’t respond.  What could she say?  Silence was the mother of all truths.  I turned my back to the girl.  She wouldn’t talk, and I was tired of messing with her.

“My grand …”

Her voice was so quiet, I barely heard what she said.  “What’s that?”

“I need … I wanted to … you wouldn’t understand.”

“You’re probably right, but why don’t you tell me anyway.”

“Are you taking me to jail?”

“I should.”

“But?”

“Just go.”  The girl seemed surprised and for good reason.  I should have her arrested, but I couldn’t leave Pa.  No one else was available, and twenty-five dollars wasn’t the end of the world.  I could make it up out of my pay.  “Take the money and go.”

She stood and then hesitated.  “I’m sorry about your pa.”

“He’ll be fine.  Go on.  Get outta here.”

Before she was out the door, I returned to the guest room and pulled a chair close to the bed.  Pa wasn’t out of the woods yet, and I wouldn’t leave his side until I was sure he was on the mend.

Chapter 2

My brothers returned the following day, and since Pa was still bedridden, I had to tell the whole humiliating story.  Explaining I’d let a kid get the best of me, and that he wasn’t exactly a kid, but a woman I’d didn’t tie up or take to the sheriff wasn’t my finest hour.

After the seriousness of the shooting wore off, my brothers were quick to give me a piece of their minds.  After all, I’d let Pa get shot, and I’d let the robber leave.  I never thought their scolding would end, but Pa intervened and put an end to their vicious ridicule.  That was two days ago.  The robbery, the shooting, and the contempt were a thing of the past.   We were brothers, and nothing kept us at odds for long.

“““““

“That’s one for me and one for Adam.  You fellas ready for another?”

“Gather ‘em up, Little Brother.  I’ll beat you both this time.”

“Dream on, Hoss.  You ain’t never been any good at horseshoes.”

“You wanna bet?”

I stood toe to toe with my big brother.  “Yeah.  How much?”

“That’s enough, Boys.  No gambling on Sundays.”  Pa really knew how to take the wind out of a man’s sails.  I could’ve doubled my month’s earnings betting with my biggest brother.

“Go ahead, Hoss.  See if you can beat Adam.  If you’d broken your right wrist instead of your left, you’d have an excuse, but you don’t, do you?”

“Get outta here, Joseph.” 

“Fine.  I need to talk to Pa anyway.”

Although my father had survived his injury with no lasting problems, Doc insisted he take it easy.  He didn’t seem surprised when I joined him on the porch and let my brothers have all the fun.

Before the robbery, Pa and I had been at odds.  Mostly, it was my fault.  I blamed him for not believing me about the stranger, but when I look back, I understand why.  My dreams had always been more vivid than anyone else I know.  There were times when I woke the whole family, as my visions became so real that I couldn’t escape, but that’s not the point.

Yesterday, I received a letter with a St. Louis postmark.  I didn’t know anyone east of Nevada, and when I opened the post, the message was brief.

Dear Joe,

I’d like to call us friends, but I doubt that can ever be.  I need you and your pa to talk to the Doc.   He’ll explain everything, and maybe you won’t hate me as much as you do now.

Your friend,

Elizabeth J. Macintosh

Pa wasn’t allowed to ride Buck yet, but he wanted to hear what Paul had to say about Lizzy.  I drove the two of us into town the following morning.  Did I mention anything about the payroll?  I’d gone to be with Pa and never thought about the wad of cash he’d stashed in his coat pocket, but Lizzy did, and she had no qualms about taking it with her.  That’s why she came to the Ponderosa in the first place, and none of us were that shocked when the money went missing.

I blamed myself, but Pa fought hard to change my mind.  He explained how I couldn’t have known and to blame myself was a waste of time.  The girl was brighter than we gave her credit for, and we had to let go.  It was just one payroll, and we weren’t destitute.  The men would still be paid.

Since my father had been shot and I wanted to be by his side, I could live with the fact that I couldn’t change what happened, and I let it go. 

After pulling up in front of Paul’s office, I watched Pa ease himself from the buggy.  I didn’t offer to help, especially on C Street where one of his friends might see.  He would’ve slapped my hands away anyway.  My father was a proud man.

He took a seat rather quickly, though, when we got inside the doctor’s office.  “What’s this all about, Paul?”

“Yeah, Lizzy says you have all the answers.”

“I have some of the answers, Joe.  Sit down and I’ll fill you in.”

I leaned against the back of Pa’s chair.  “I’m fine here.”

“Two months ago, I told Miss Macintosh that her grandfather would die without an operation.  It involves the brain, and I don’t have the skills to perform that type of surgery.  She needed a brain surgeon, which meant she needed money she didn’t have or wouldn’t be able to earn in a year’s time. 

“When I contacted a colleague in St. Louis and told him the situation, he cut his fee in half, and off they went.  But the girl made a pitstop first, and that was to the Ponderosa.”

“How did she know to come to us?”

Doc turned his attention to Pa.  “Remember when you stopped by to pay for Hoss’ wrist, Ben?  Miss Macintosh and her grandfather were just leaving my office, but she hesitated and paid close attention.  She saw you pull easy cash from your wallet.  I assume she figured you had more.”

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense.  What do you think, Pa?”

“She could’ve asked.”

“Ah, come on.  A girl isn’t gonna knock on a stranger’s front door and ask for money.”

“You’re right, of course, but I’m glad we could help.”  Pa looked up at Paul.  “How did the surgery go?”

“Very well.  Carl is doing quite well.”

“Carl … Carl Macintosh?  Blonde.  Blue-eyed?”

“Sounds like him only most of the blonde has turned gray.  Why?”

“I know him.”

“What do you mean, Pa?”

“Years ago.  From the wagon train.”

“Are you serious?  You know the guy?”

Pa sat taller in his chair.  “The man’s wife was the only other woman with a baby.  I … I forget her name, but she and Inger became fast friends; you know how most women are.  Always comparing notes.”

“Bet her baby wasn’t as big as Hoss.”

“Oh, no, not even half his size, thank goodness.  She was a girl.  Possibly Lizzy’s mother.”

“Ain’t that something?  Hey Doc?  Where are Lizzy and her grandfather now?”

“I’m not sure, Son.  They went to St. Louis for the operation.  I don’t know if they planted roots there or not.”

“Sorry, Doc.  I forgot about the St. Louis postmark.  I guess they decided to stay.” 

Epilogue:

More than three years had passed.  I’d collected the mail and gave the small stack to my father.  Before I could walk away, Pa handed me one of the letters.  “Here’s one for you, Joe.”

I checked the postmark and return address.  Lizzy Macintosh.  “Wonder what she wants now?”

Dearest Joe,

Since friends repay debts, I’m replacing the money I stole.  I’ve wired the amount plus interest to your father’s bank account in Virginia City.   Desperation gave me the strength to steal, and I can never apologize enough for shooting your pa.

Granddad died last week, but he had almost three extra years of life thanks to you and Mr. Cartwright.  Again, my apologies to your father.  I hope he’s doing well.

Always,

Lizzy

“I’ll be damned.”

“Joseph, please.”

“Sorry.”  I rocked back in my chair and thought about the bandit named Lizzy.  How many women could’ve pulled off a robbery like she had?  She was a brave soul, and I’ll bet nothing’s changed.  I wondered how she earned the money to repay Pa, but maybe it’s better that I never knew her story.  “Was it worth it, Pa?  The bullet?  The payroll?”

“If her aim had been better, I’d be dead, and Carl wouldn’t have had those three extra years.  Was it worth it?  I’m not sure how to answer that.”

“How ‘bout this?  Do you think it’s fate, or is there a plan for everything that happens?”

“You’re getting a bit philosophical, aren’t you, Joe?”

“I don’t know.  I think about Lizzy a lot.  I wonder if I’d do the same thing if the tables were turned, and you needed an operation.”

“Let’s hope it never comes to that.”

“I’m sure it won’t, but I can’t help but wonder.”

“She broke the law, Son.”

“I know, but she didn’t have a choice.  She did what she thought was right.”

Pa rested his hand on my forearm.  “It’s Sunday, Joe.  The sky is blue, and the sun is shining.  There’s a game of horseshoes not ten feet away, and Lizzy Macintosh is the last person we should be talking about.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“I know I am.  Why don’t you and I challenge those brothers of yours?”

“You up for a game?”

“I think so.”

“Good.  What do you bet we can win three games in a row?”

“It’s Sunday, remember?”

“Oh … no wagering on Sundays.”

“That’s right, Son.  Only blue sky and sunshine.”

The End

2022