Lincoln County Series 1-3 (38 page)

Read Lincoln County Series 1-3 Online

Authors: Sarah Jae Foster

BOOK: Lincoln County Series 1-3
7.14Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

*** *** ***

Jake saw Ivan Jorgeson head into the saloon. Double-checking the crumpled up poster inside his vest, he confirmed it. He only had to go three days out of Lincoln County to catch him. The man didn’t seem too concerned about being caught, made no attempt to be cautious that Jake could see. He patted Hunter’s back end. “I’ll be back,” he said and made his way inside.

Bored with the ease of this capture, Jake wanted to have it be at least a small amount of challenge, so he joined in the poker game Ivan was in. The man told jokes that only he laughed at and was an obnoxious player who couldn’t hold a straight face. He also tended to boast. The man across from Jake looked ready to shut Ivan up for good, and if that happened he’d not get the reward money because the law would interfere. It was time to call him out.

Jake asked everyone at the table, “Y’all hear about that bank robbery back in Junction?” Casually, he tossed down an unwanted card, then peered up at the group. The men were shaking their heads. No one had heard. Except for Ivan, who decided to shut his mouth, surprisingly enough.

Jake shrugged his shoulders. “No? Huh.” He received another card from the dealer and stared at it for a long while before making a move with it. He’d been leaning back in his chair, so he put it back to four legs, set his cards on the table, then his gun. Carefully he took in the man, creating a tense atmosphere and he pulled out the poster. As if it were a treasure map, he began to spread it out and took time to smooth it clear to its edges until the sketch of Ivan came into view of everybody. He held it up so all in the group could see it. A few others gathered around now, knowing something of interest was going down. Smartly he asked, “Anybody see this man come through here?”

A split second later Ivan was out of his seat and naturally his hand went to the gun at his belt. Still seated, Jake had his aimed and ready to shoot. “Don’t do anything stupid. I got the drop on you and everyone here knows it.” Slowly, he got up from the chair and suddenly the desire to shoot Ivan in self-defense was leaving him. He shook his head, confused. Typically he thrived on the rush that always came before the standoff, the money had always been a perk to the job. Putting scum in the earth had always been the real reward. Instead of eliciting Ivan to draw, he sincerely tried to talk him down. “Raise your hands, away from the gun.”

Ivan wasn’t going to relent. Jake could feel it. Ivan’s eyes darted towards the exit and Jake’s fun was over. He’d shoot his way out, no doubt. Jake took a step forward. “Ivan Jorgeson, I don’t want to shoot you but I am taking you in for armed robbery. Don’t be a fool.”

Ivan drew. Jake aimed at his shoulder instead of his usual bull’s-eye—the heart—and fired once. Ivan’s body twisted back giving Jake enough time to pull the gun from the tight grip in his hand and subdue him. Looking around he asked, “Where’s the sheriff’s office?”

“Follow me,” said a stranger.

*** *** ***

Jake put up with Ivan cussing him out over the short distance to the sheriff’s office. They all tended to look the same, small square buildings with a holding cell in the back, a lone desk in the middle of the space, a rifle rack on the wall behind it. The sheriff looked to be arming himself, no doubt hearing the gun shot, and turned towards their intrusion. Needing no guidance, Jake took Ivan to the cell and stood back so the sheriff could lock him inside.

To the stranger Jake said, “You may want to get the doctor.”

The sheriff met Jake next to his desk, which neatly portrayed the wanted poster and the amount due to him. “I’ll have your reward to you in a few days. It’ll take some time getting it from Junction City.”

“I know the routine.”

The sheriff gave him a once over. “I reckon you do.”

Jake readied to find himself a room for the night when the man’s words stopped him. “I’m Stephen Palmer, and you are?”

“Jake Collins.”

“And where will I be able to find you to hand over the money.”

Jake recognized in the sheriff’s voice that he was fishing around for his intentions on staying. Little did he know that the last thing he wanted at the moment was more trouble. “I’ll find you.” He left, and for the first time, and for no good reason, he was shaken up at the events included in taking down an outlaw.

Chapter Fifteen

Jake figured that four days was enough time before checking in with the sheriff. He finished eating the breakfast supplied by the boarding house he was staying at and headed to the jail. Finding it locked, he kicked back to relax in the sun on a rickety bench outside the door. Having no choice but to wait until the sheriff returned, he had time to pick up his thoughts about Ivan. He was heavily bothered that the desire to bounty hunt was beginning to fade away. He fought hard to keep it alive but it was slipping. Bounty hunting filled so many areas of his life, and he was in control of whatever transpired during a hunt. He was providing communities with safety and providing justice. Why was it beginning to feel wrong? It wasn’t wrong! He did not like feeling so unsettled, especially about something he was once so sure about.

A shadow fell over him, blocking the sun. With caution he peered up, hand ready to unholster his weapon in a split second if need be. The person disrupting his solitude said, “You won’t find the sheriff back for some time. He’s at the church.”

It was Sunday? Just what Jake needed, an overzealous religious sheriff to deal with. He knew he didn’t like him from the get go. He only wanted his money and to be gone from this place. It was one of the most boring towns he’d been in. Dry as a bone too. The saloon he’d played cards in served no alcohol. And as he’d come to find out, neither did any place else in the entire community. Though if he’d pay attention to the townspeople, he’d notice they all appeared happy enough with their lot in this town.

“I reckon I can wait until he returns. Much obliged for the heads up on the timing.”

The young man snickered. “You don’t understand mister. He’s the preacher too, but by all means, sit here all the day long if you’ve a care to.”

Jake looked around. The town was awfully sparse and now it made sense why the hostess of the boarding house rushed out as soon as he’d finished eating. Was every Man Jack of this town
in
church? He cursed at the curiosity weaving its way through him.

Half an hour later Jake made his way towards the church, impulsively wanting to see this preacher-sheriff in action. This time, he wasn’t able to hide behind the front doors, and he could’ve sworn Stephen Palmer knew he’d be there. The second the front step creaked he was promptly called out. “Jake Collins, what a pleasure! Come. Join us. I’ve a seat right here for you.” The preacher-sheriff smiled at a young family. “Kindly make room for our guest.”

Burning with embarrassment he had no choice really unless he wanted to make a scene, which was tempting to be sure. At least he wasn’t completely ignorant of polite society as he remembered to remove his hat halfway down the aisle. Stephen picked up presumably where he’d left off and Jake was grateful for no more attention placed upon him like a bulls-eye. So, he would be biding his time in a pew instead of an old bench outside of the jail. No skin off of his back.

Stephen was sharing a story about a man in bible times named Saul. He was a murderer of Christians out of hate and sport. Jake thought it was a nice story, entertaining at best until the preacher pointed out that God had forgiven him. He became disgusted with the urge he had to flee. No way would he give Stephen the pleasure of seeing him squirm. Why would God outright forgive a man for killing his own people? Better yet, why would He even allow His people to be murdered? People like Andrew… Then of all things this Saul had been chosen, given a new name of Paul and began a new life of serving God’s people. That couldn’t be right. Where was the justice? What was the purpose in all of that? The despised feeling of being unsettled came back full force, and the moment Stephen bowed his head and closed his eyes in prayer to end his sermon, Jake beelined it out the front door. Once outside, he breathed in deeply. The air was thick and brought a refreshing calmness.

*** *** ***

The next morning, before Jake had made it out the door to obtain his money and hightail it out of the awful place, Stephen had come to the boarding house. Jake swallowed the last of his coffee and stared at the preacher-sheriff, unwillingly to break the silence.

Stephen pulled out a chair. “Mrs. Hillstone, would you mind pouring me a cup of your famous coffee?”

“It’d be my pleasure.”

Jake understood he was in for a talk. So long as this was the last thing required of him to acquire pay, rightfully due to him, he’d finish out the man’s game. He couldn’t resist asking, “What is it that people are supposed to call you? Sheriff Palmer? Reverend Stephen?” He reclined. “It could get a mite confusing in this town of yours.”

Stephen received a steaming cup of coffee and gestured to Mrs. Hillstone to refill Jake’s empty cup. “They call me whatever I am to them. Some call me flat out Mr. Palmer, but boy howdy, that just makes me sound old!” He shuddered.

Jake mumbled a “much obliged” to Mrs. Hillstone, hoping she would dismiss herself. After fawning over Stephen, she finally left them be. Everybody treated him like some sort of legend. It was unnatural. The man couldn’t be much older than himself. Stephen’s eyes were trained on him, knowing there was a purpose for the visit. He’d let the sheriff get on with it in his own time because he sure wasn’t seeking conversation over a cup of coffee with nobody. He was expecting to hear the words, “when are you leaving our fair town?” Or something akin to that. So he was ill prepared for what came out of Stephen’s mouth instead.

“I have a proposition for you.”

Shifting a bit in his seat, Jake waited to hear this mysterious proposition.

“I need to be heading to Montana Territory, leaving tomorrow if I can, and would like you to sit in for me as sheriff.”

Clearing his head, Jake replied, “No offense, but you don’t know nothin’ about me.”

“I’ve been known to judge more than one man accurately over my time, and after sizing you up the past few days, I believe my instincts are right.”

Jake did not care to have been sized up at all, but in fairness, he’d of done the same thing if a stranger walked into his town, had he been a sheriff. “And just what are your instincts about me, Sheriff Palmer?” Well then, he’d just defined who the man was to him, because nobody was his reverend.

Stephen took his coffee down like a shot of tequila. Jake was impressed. Almost liking the man’s confidence, believing he could hold his own in any situation.

“I have you pegged for an honest man, one who would keep his word.”

A fire lit inside of Jake’s belly. What was this? Squarely, he looked at Stephen, taking note to call him out for mocking him. “Like I said, you don’t know nothin’ about me and what you said isn’t true. I’m not a man of honor. In fact, I’d like to get that reward money so I can be on my way.” He slid back, chair scraping against the wood floor, and stood, challenging Stephen at the same time. “You got my money, sheriff?”

Placing both hands on the table as if he were disappointed, Stephen stood as well. Eye to eye. “I meant what I asked of you, Jake. I need to see my brother in Montana. He’s a preacher too. Name’s Jonathan. There isn’t a soul around I would entrust this town to but you. I believe it’s the reason you’re even standing here, right before me. I’ve worked too dang hard on making this a God-fearing place to have it ruined in a month’s time.”

Jake’s guard went down a few notches, but disbelief was still ringing his ears. “I wasn’t planning on sticking around.”

“You got someplace else to be?”

Pain etched his features. He could feel it and knew it was showing, telling on him. “I reckon I don’t.”

In a friendly manner, Stephen thudded the palm of his hand on Jake’s shoulder a few times and said, “Well then, why don’t you stay on a while and prove me right on my inclination about you being a man of your word, eh?”

Emotionally defeated, Jake had no further argument and clearly nowhere else to go. “I ain’t covering for your preaching, that’s for sure.”

Stephen smiled wide. “I wouldn’t ask that of ya.” He let out a whistle. “That’s harder than being the sheriff! Come on, let me show you around. My family’s waiting on me in the West and I’m looking forward to seeing me some pine trees!”

Chapter Sixteen

Other books

King of the Wind by Marguerite Henry
All Work and No Play by Coleen Kwan
Scattered Leaves by V. C. Andrews
It Had to Be You by Ellie Adams
Seeing Black by Sidney Halston
Vanished by Mackel, Kathryn