The RECKONING: A Jess Williams Western by Robert J. Thomas, Jill B. Thomas, Barb Gunia, Dave Hile Page A
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It was a hot dusty day and he never figured plowing a field would be such hard work. He earned a new respect for his pa. It was just after high noon and he decided to stop and eat. After eating a simple meal of ham and a piece of apple pie, he went back at it again. When he finished for the day, he walked back to the house after throwing some hay and looked at the blisters beginning to form on his hands. He figured that he better wear the leather gloves his pa had in the barn or else he wouldn’t be able to practice drawing a pistol in the evening, and that was something that he promised himself he would do every night.
After dinner, he went into his pa’s room and got the wooden box out from under the bed. He took it to the table and opened it up. Inside, he found his pa’s Colt .45 Peacemaker and the holster to go with it. He also found four boxes of .45 slugs in the bottom of the box. He strapped the gun and holster on and went down to the creek. Even with the blisters, he practiced for two hours straight. The first hour and a half he drew and dry fired the gun. Then, he loaded the pistol and spent the last half-hour using live ammunition. His practice took on a new fervor. It was not just a game anymore. Now it was something he had to do to make sure that he survived. He decided that tomorrow he would start practicing with both his pa’s pistol and the one he found in the barn.
When he finished practicing, he took his pa’s gun and holster and put it back in the house. Then, he climbed up in the top of the barn and looked at the pistol and holster he found. He decided to take it into the house. He finally turned in and as he lay there that night, he figured he would practice with his pa’s pistol for the first part of his practice every night and then switch to the new pistol for the rest of his practice.
The next day found him back out plowing the field. It was just before noon when he noticed a dust cloud out on the main road. He stopped and reached over to grab his pa’s rifle out of the scabbard that he kept strapped to the plow horse. The Winchester 44-40 still looked like new. He also had his pa’s double-barreled shotgun tied to the horse. He watched the group of riders turn down the ranch road. He counted four of them. He finally caught a glimpse of who was approaching. It was Sheriff Diggs with three other men. They rode right up to the plow rig and Jess walked around the rig after putting the shotgun down.
“Hi, Jess,” said Sheriff Diggs. “I sure didn’t expect to find you out here and especially never expected to see you working the field. Hell, I thought someone was trying to squat and I’d have to run him off. I figured you would still be at Jim and Sara’s. You expecting trouble?” he asked, nodding at the rifle and shotgun leaning on the plow.
“I wasn’t expecting any, but if there was, I’d be ready for it,” he replied. “I decided to stay here and work the ranch. Got to be a man and do a man’s work now, Sheriff. They didn’t leave me much choice about that the way I figure.” The sheriff knew who they were. “I reckon you didn’t find them unless you had to kill them and bury their carcasses out on the trail.”
“No such luck,” replied Sheriff Diggs dejectedly. “I would have loved to bury the bastards if I found them. We did find out who they were with the help of some other unfortunate people they robbed not more than ten miles from here. I also got some news from the sheriff in a little town about twenty miles east of here. They stopped there for a drink and someone overheard them bragging about how they killed some people and raped some women. The sheriff didn’t have any wanted posters on them, but he did get a look at them and he gave me a pretty good description. We
It was a hot dusty day and he never figured plowing a field would be such hard work. He earned a new respect for his pa. It was just after high noon and he decided to stop and eat. After eating a simple meal of ham and a piece of apple pie, he went back at it again. When he finished for the day, he walked back to the house after throwing some hay and looked at the blisters beginning to form on his hands. He figured that he better wear the leather gloves his pa had in the barn or else he wouldn’t be able to practice drawing a pistol in the evening, and that was something that he promised himself he would do every night.
After dinner, he went into his pa’s room and got the wooden box out from under the bed. He took it to the table and opened it up. Inside, he found his pa’s Colt .45 Peacemaker and the holster to go with it. He also found four boxes of .45 slugs in the bottom of the box. He strapped the gun and holster on and went down to the creek. Even with the blisters, he practiced for two hours straight. The first hour and a half he drew and dry fired the gun. Then, he loaded the pistol and spent the last half-hour using live ammunition. His practice took on a new fervor. It was not just a game anymore. Now it was something he had to do to make sure that he survived. He decided that tomorrow he would start practicing with both his pa’s pistol and the one he found in the barn.
When he finished practicing, he took his pa’s gun and holster and put it back in the house. Then, he climbed up in the top of the barn and looked at the pistol and holster he found. He decided to take it into the house. He finally turned in and as he lay there that night, he figured he would practice with his pa’s pistol for the first part of his practice every night and then switch to the new pistol for the rest of his practice.
The next day found him back out plowing the field. It was just before noon when he noticed a dust cloud out on the main road. He stopped and reached over to grab his pa’s rifle out of the scabbard that he kept strapped to the plow horse. The Winchester 44-40 still looked like new. He also had his pa’s double-barreled shotgun tied to the horse. He watched the group of riders turn down the ranch road. He counted four of them. He finally caught a glimpse of who was approaching. It was Sheriff Diggs with three other men. They rode right up to the plow rig and Jess walked around the rig after putting the shotgun down.
“Hi, Jess,” said Sheriff Diggs. “I sure didn’t expect to find you out here and especially never expected to see you working the field. Hell, I thought someone was trying to squat and I’d have to run him off. I figured you would still be at Jim and Sara’s. You expecting trouble?” he asked, nodding at the rifle and shotgun leaning on the plow.
“I wasn’t expecting any, but if there was, I’d be ready for it,” he replied. “I decided to stay here and work the ranch. Got to be a man and do a man’s work now, Sheriff. They didn’t leave me much choice about that the way I figure.” The sheriff knew who they were. “I reckon you didn’t find them unless you had to kill them and bury their carcasses out on the trail.”
“No such luck,” replied Sheriff Diggs dejectedly. “I would have loved to bury the bastards if I found them. We did find out who they were with the help of some other unfortunate people they robbed not more than ten miles from here. I also got some news from the sheriff in a little town about twenty miles east of here. They stopped there for a drink and someone overheard them bragging about how they killed some people and raped some women. The sheriff didn’t have any wanted posters on them, but he did get a look at them and he gave me a pretty good description. We
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