Eyes of Eagles by William W. Johnstone

her eyes to Jamie. “The boy...”
    â€œThe boy has been a man for some time, I suspect. He will be outside, with me.”
    â€œWhy the bell, Sam?” Sarah asked.
    â€œOlmstead wants everyone in our community to be here to see me receive a thrashing at his hands. I am afraid he is to be sorely disappointed. Sorely, in more ways than one,” he added with a small smile.
    Sam and Jamie walked out of the house while the neighbors were gathering. The women hurried into the house. In the front yard, Sam said, “Get away from Sarah’s flowers. I don’t want them trampled on.” Sam walked out of the yard and to the side of the road. “Get over here, Olmstead, and toe the mark.”
    Jamie looked back at the home. All the women had gathered at the windows and thrown open the shutters. He turned to look at Hart Olmstead. Sam had been right; the man was a brute, with massive shoulders and arms. And Jamie could tell he was spoiling for a fight.
    Olmstead spat on the ground and lifted his fists. “Now, rich boy, you’ll get your comeuppance. I intend to knock you off that ivory tower you sit on like a king.”
    Jamie had been right in guessing that Sam Montgomery was a man of substance. And people like John Jackson and Hart Olmstead always resented those with money.
    Jamie’s pa had told him that.
    Unbeknownst to anyone, Jamie had taken a pistol from Sam’s holster that hung from a peg in the hallway and shoved it behind his belt and pulled out his shirttail to cover the butt. He didn’t trust the sheriff or John Jackson. He believed neither of them to be honorable men.
    Hart walked up to Sam and Sam hit him twice in the face before Hart could blink. The blows were powerful ones that rocked Hart’s head back and bloodied the bigger man’s lips and nose.
    Hart cursed Sam and took a wild swing that, had it connected, would have done some damage. Sam ducked under the whistling fist and struck Hart a terrible blow to the stomach. The air wheezed out of Olmstead and before he could recover, Sam had knocked him down in the mud with a hard left.
    â€œI’m probably making a bad mistake, but I’ll not put the boots to you, Olmstead,” Sam told him, backing up and giving the man room. “Although if the position were reversed, I believe you would not hesitate to kick me.”
    Hart Olmstead rose slowly to his feet, hate and fury in his eyes and on his bloody face. “No man does this to me,” he panted the words. “No man!”
    â€œI just did,” Sam spoke calmly. “But it need not continue. Whether it does or not, depends entirely on you.”
    With a roar of rage and a wild obscenity on his lips, Hart charged Sam, hoping to get him in a bear hug and crush some ribs. But Sam had anticipated that and merely stepped to one side and tripped the bigger and heavier man, sending him crashing to the ground, sliding in the mud for a few feet, on his belly, chest, and face.
    The men all laughed and that made Hart Olmstead even angrier. “Damn you all!” he screamed, getting to his knees and squatting there in the mud and the blood. “I’m an officer of the law in this county. I demand respect. And I command the whole damn lot of you to stop laughing.”
    That brought even more laughter and hoots and catcalls of derision from the crowd of men. Over it all, Jamie could faintly hear giggling coming from the house. Jamie cut his eyes to Sheriff Marwick. The man looked embarrassed.
    Hart got to his feet and the man was a mess, mud and blood dripping from him. Sam stood nonchalantly, still neat as a pin. He had not even broken a sweat.
    â€œGive this up, Hart,” Sam said. “We’ll call it a draw and shake hands and you can clean up over yonder at the rain barrel. What say you, Hart?”
    â€œI’ll kill you!” Hart screamed, and rushed at Sam.
    Hart was swinging both fists and they both connected against