HELL HATH NO FURY (A Jess Williams western novel) (15 page)

             
“Well, I’m going to come over there and punch you square in the face. Now what do you think about that, Mister?” asked Hardtack.

             
“I don’t think much about it, but I’d reconsider that idea if I were you.”

             
“I’m not going to reconsider my decision. I’m still planning on punching you in the face and knocking you out just like I did to that other man and making myself another ten dollars.”

             
“I’ll tell you what,” said Jess, “how about if I just give you ten dollars and end this whole matter now.”

             
“You here that, men, this scaredy-cat wants to buy his way out of a fistfight!” exclaimed Hardtack, slamming down yet another shot of whiskey.

             
“You’ve been drinking a little too much whiskey and I think it’s clouding your judgment a little too much,” replied Jess.”

             
“You better get ready for a beatin’, Mister.”

             
“Well, you can’t say I didn’t warn you, Hardtack,” said Jess, smiling and cocking his head a little, which only made Hardtack angrier.

             
“Mister, remove all those weapons you got strapped all over you and get yourself ready for a good thrashing.”

             
“Sorry, but like I said, there’s no chance that’s going to happen.”

             
“Well, what are you going to do, shoot an unarmed man with all these witnesses in here?”

             
“That’s most likely what’s going to happen if you don’t give up this notion of getting into a fistfight with me. I use my hands for gun fighting and I’m not going to get my knuckles and fingers all broken up in a stupid fistfight,” replied Jess.

             
Hardtack laughed and slammed another whiskey down and then he began to speak to the ever growing audience gathered in the saloon. “Did you hear that men, this young man says he’ll shoot me if I try to sock him a good one. I don’t think he’ll do it. It’s against the law,” exclaimed Hardtack.

             
“It’s not against my law,” replied Jess.

             
Andy hollered over at Hardtack. “He’s not foolin’ with ya, he will shoot you fer sure, ‘cause I seen him do it to another man out in the middle of the street. He shot an unarmed man who was sitting there in the street wounded. I wouldn’t push him Hardtack. You have no idea who you’re dealing with here.”

             
“I still don’t believe he’ll shoot me,” replied Hardtack, walking to the middle of the bar and taking his stance and gesturing to Jess to join him. Jess simply smiled at him.

             
“Hardtack, which hand in your best hand in a fistfight?” Jess asked.

             
“Now you’re talking. I usually knock them out with my left hook first and then I finish them up with a right after that, but knowing that strategy won’t help you much. I still plan on knocking you silly with my left hook and there ain’t nothing you can do about it either.”

             
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” replied Jess.

             
“Well, if you ain’t coming to me, I’m coming to you,” said Hardtack, moving in Jess’ direction. Jess slicked his pistol out and shot Hardtack in his right arm and holstered his pistol so fast that hardly anyone in the saloon saw the movement. Hardtack was totally surprised by it, but Andy was laughing out loud.

             
“I tried to warn you Hardtack,” said Andy.

             
“You son-of-a-bitch! You shot me! I need my arms for fighting and now I only have one good arm left and I have a big fight set up for next week,” exclaimed, a now slightly more sober, Hardtack.

             
“I guess you should’ve thought about that before,” replied Jess. “You’re letting the whiskey make your decisions for you.” Hardtack’s handler was pulling on his left hand trying to get him to leave, but he was having nothing to do with it. He pushed his handler back so hard that he fell back onto a table where four men were seated, spilling all their drinks.

             
Hardtack glared at Jess and started advancing on him again and Jess slicked his pistol out and shot Hardtack in his left leg, just above the knee, and quickly holstered his pistol again.

             
“Damn it! Now you’ve done shot me in the leg! You must be loco in the head, Mister.”

             
“Hey, I can do this all night if you continue pursuing the matter. I still have four slugs in my pistol and six more in this one here in the front of my holster; and you still have two elbows, two knees, a leg and arm left. So if you want to keep going, I’ll just keep shooting you until you can’t walk or even stand upright,” replied Jess.

             
“Alright, I’ll quit, but when I get better, I’m coming back for you,” exclaimed Hardtack.

             
Jess stared him straight in the eyes and Jess’ eyes now showed no emotion; just that strange empty darkness he sometimes had when he was pushed too close to the edge. “Hardtack, I’m only going to tell you this once so listen up. If you ever come at me again I’ll put a bullet in that thick skull you call a brain, and I’m not just saying it,” replied Jess.

             
Hardtack was so drunk that he wasn’t sure what Jess had said, but he did understand that he might want to change his mind just from the look in Jess’ eyes. The pain in his left leg got so bad that Hardtack fell to the floor and onto his back.

             
Jess asked Andy for his shotgun behind the bar and Andy handed it to Jess with a worried look on his face. Jess walked over to where Hardtack was lying on the floor, bleeding from both of the wounds Jess had given him.

             
Hardtack looked up at Jess. “What in the hell are you going to do now; shoot me with that shotgun you’ve got?” Hardtack asked.

             
“I should, but no, I’m just going to show you the butt end of it,” replied Jess, as he took the butt of the double barrel and cracked Hardtack on his forehead, knocking him unconscious. Jess replaced the two spent cartridge in his pistol and looked around the saloon, and seeing no obvious threats, holstered his pistol leaving the hammer strap off just in case. Andy poured Jess another glass of good whiskey.

             
“What in the hell did ya do that fer?” asked Andy.

             
“I did him a favor,” replied Jess.

             
“That was a favor?”

             
“Sure, he won’t wake up now when the doc’s working on him,” replied Jess.

             
“Maybe you might be right about that. Now, see there, I knew you’d find a way to finally stop that bullheaded bastard,” said Andy. “I didn’t think it would go down quite that way though.”

             
“Just how did you think it was going to go down? You know I don’t engage in fist fighting and brawling,” replied Jess.

             
“I guess I should’ve thought about that before I sent for ya, eh?”

             
“Yes, but it doesn’t matter much now,” replied Jess, sipping the whiskey.

             
“I’ll send for the doc to patch Hardtack up. I don’t think he’ll be waking up anytime soon,” said Andy.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

              The doctor was working on Hardtack’s two bullet wounds when Sheriff Fowler and his two deputies walked in to find out what all the commotion was about. Sheriff Fowler walked over to the two tables Hardtack’s handler had pushed together. Some of the men in the saloon picked Hardtack up off the floor and placed him on the tables, making it easier for the doctor to work on him. The doctor had finished up with the leg wound and was finishing the stitching up of the second gunshot wound and Hardtack was still out cold. Sheriff Fowler looked over and saw Jess standing at the bar, smiling.

             
“Do I even have to ask?” Fowler asked Jess, as he walked up to the bar.

             
“I tried to talk him out of it, honest, but he was too drunk to listen,” replied Jess.

             
“So you just shot the man—twice?”

             
“I only shot him once and he still insisted on giving me a thrashing so I had to shoot him again. He forced my hand and you can even ask his handler over there. Even he was trying to get that dumb-ass out of here, but Hardtack pushed him down,” replied Jess. Sheriff Fowler looked over at the handler who shook his head in the affirmative, not because he wanted to admit to it, but because he was deathly afraid of what Jess might do to him if he lied about the matter.

             
“See, I told you the truth, Sheriff,” said Jess.

             
“Well, I better lock him up for the night until he sleeps it off. If not, when he come too, he might just try another go at you,” replied Sheriff Fowler.

             
“I don’t really think so,” interjected Andy, who was still standing behind the bar.

             
“Why not?”

             
“Ask that one yerself,” replied Andy, nodding at Jess.

             
“Well, I’m waiting for an answer, Mr. Williams,” said Fowler.

             
“It seems I might have mentioned that if he ever came at me again, I might put a bullet into his thick skull,” replied Jess.

             
“I think you’re using the word
might
a little too freely,” replied Sheriff Fowler. “I’d better keep him locked up until you leave town then.”

             
“Hey Sheriff, did ya hear about Jess finding a pile of gold out at the old abandoned mine today?” asked Andy.

             
“No, ain’t been back in town long enough to talk to anyone. How much did you find up there?” Fowler asked Jess.

             
“I don’t rightly know yet, but it was a lot. Mr. Jameson has it locked up in his safe for me and I’ll know how much it’s worth tomorrow,” replied Jess.

             
“It seems that every time you come to town, you seem to get richer before you leave,” replied Sheriff Fowler.

             
“It does seem that way, doesn’t it Sheriff?”

             
Sheriff Fowler looked over at Hardtack, who was now starting to shake the cobwebs from his battered head.

             
“Damn, I don’t feel too good,” said Hardtack.

             
“Sheriff, you’d better get him out of here before he pukes his guts out,” said Andy. “I think he drank two bottles of rotgut all by himself.”

             
The Sheriff and his two deputies helped Hardtack get off the table and as soon as they got him to the boardwalk, he threw up everything that he had left in his stomach.

             
Andy looked at Jess. “I’m sure glad he did that outside,” said Andy.

             
Yeah, I wouldn’t want to clean that mess up,” replied Jess.

             
Before Sheriff Fowler took Hardtack over to the jail he hollered into the saloon at Jess. “Try not killing anyone else for the night, okay?”

             
“I’ll do my best, Sheriff!” Jess hollered back. “I can’t promise though!” Jess heard the sheriff mumbling something, but he couldn’t make out what it was. He knew it wasn’t good.

             
Jess had a few more drinks with Andy and then he bought a round of drinks for the entire saloon because of his newfound wealth discovered earlier in the day. He got an even bigger cheer from the crowd than Hardtack had gotten from them when he knocked the one man out earlier. He threw a twenty dollar gold piece on the top of the bar for Andy, who smiled and pocketed it quickly. Jess walked back down to Jim and Sara’s place to retire for the night. When he walked in, he found Jim sitting at the table with a pot of hot coffee and a cup already waiting for Jess. Sara had whipped up some biscuits for Jess since she knew how much he loved fresh biscuits. Jess poured himself a cup of coffee and slathered some butter on a biscuit and took a huge bite out of it.

             
Jim did the same as he looked at Jess. “Well, I guess you’ve had a pretty full day, Jess. You managed to stop a bank robbery, kill the three men who tried to rob it, found a mountain of gold and finished your day up by shooting Hardtack twice and knocking him out with the butt of Andy’s shotgun.”

             
Jess washed the biscuit down with some coffee. “Yeah, I guess I did, huh? I suppose Sheriff Fowler told you all about it.”

             
“Yes he did, he was here a little bit ago and told me about it,” replied Jim. “Did you really have to shoot the man?”