Chapter 2 - Pierce Valley
The stagecoach wheeled into a small Nebraska town just an hour before noon. The sun had spent the morning baking the dirt road the citizens of Pierce Valley considered Main Street. By this time of the morning many of those citizens were busy about their normal daily routines.
Two men, both middle-aged, one of them out of place due to how well dressed he was, the other wearing a tarnished silver star, eyed the stage as it came to a rest in front of Filby's General Store.
"You hear anything?" the well dressed one asked.
"No, but that don't mean much," the other said with a snicker. "Those others were just a lucky break."
They continued their vigil without appearing too obvious at it.
The man wearing the star straightened his hat. "That one looks like trouble."
The well dressed man watched the pair stepping out of the stage. "The one with the Chinese woman?"
The other gave a short nod and turned his gaze down the street. "Yep."
"A little old, don't you think?"
"Means John has gotten tired of throwing his money at any young gun fool enough to make a quick dollar." He took a deep breath. "Probably hired this one from back east."
The well dressed man sighed. "You know you're eventually gonna have to do something about this."
"Until I have proof there ain't no point."
"Now what?" Mei-Wan asked after the driver gave them their luggage.
Hank took a moment to give the town a good look. "Now, I'll do what I do best."
"Fire quantum torpedoes?" Mei-Wan asked with a grin.
"No... I'll ask around and get the information we need."
"You really think it'll be that simple?"
"Just watch." Hank walked up to the finely dressed man who had been watching him and Mei-Wan since they'd gotten off the stagecoach. "Good morning, gentlemen."
The older of the two smiled. "Morning, sir."
"You've got a fine town here."
"We'd like to think so." He took a step toward Hank. "I'm George Pendergast, Mayor of Pierce Valley."
"Well then, you're just the man I need to see."
"That so? What is it you needed to see me about?"
"I'm looking for an old friend of mine and I hear he may be living here."
"What's your friend's name?"
"Jack McCall."
The Mayor looked away a moment. "Jack McCall?" He turned to the man wearing the star. "You know a Jack McCall, Clay?"
Clayton Harwood, several inches taller than the mayor and much slimmer, eyed Hank suspiciously. "Name does sound familiar."
"Well, I'm trying to place it myself. So many new people come through here so often, it can be right difficult to keep track of them."
Hank laughed. "I can understand that. Things do look as if they get lively around here."
The slim man tilted the brim of his hat up with one finger. "You know, I think there's a man named Jack McCall over in Darby's Saloon. Seems I heard one of the men call another by that name."
Hank and Mei-Wan looked across the street to an elaborate wood structure with the name "Darby's" displayed prominently above the door in sweeping large letters.
Hank turned back to the Mayor Pendergast and Sheriff Harwood. "Thank you very much. I appreciate your help."
The two men watched Mei-Wan and Hank cross the street toward the saloon.
"You want me to get Jedediah?"
"I reckon so." Pendergast eyed the jail. "Better get your deputies too. I figure we might need them before this is over."
***
It took a moment for Mei-Wan's eyes to adjust to the reduced light of the interior of Darby's. It took even longer for her to get used to the smoke filling the air.
Near one window she noticed a group of five men, each smoking a cigar and quite intent on the card game they had going. But after a moment, one of them, a rather burly man named Murdock, lifted his gaze above his cards and stared at Mei-Wan for ten seconds before nudging one of his companions.
She did a quick scan of the rest of the large room and couldn't find Jack among the dozen or so men present.
It was nearly a minute before Mei-Wan realized Hank had left her at the swinging doors and made his way to the bar. She stepped up behind him as he got the barkeep's attention.
"Hello, sir," Hank said to the man behind the bar.
"What'll you have?" the man asked, taking a moment to size Hank up.
Hank smiled. "Well, I think I could go for a glass of whiskey if you've got it."
The man nodded, giving Mei-Wan a brief glance. He placed the glass on the bar and took the coin Hank had dropped a moment before.
"Thank you, sir. I appreciate it." Hank picked the glass up, but stopped a moment to turn to Mei-Wan. "You like anything?"
She shook her head in response.
A moon-faced, beefy man ten feet down from them snickered. "You bring your cleaning woman with you, mister?"
Several others in the bar chuckled.
Hank turned to the large man and smiled. "Not exactly."
"Maybe he's startin' up a laundry somewhere?" a scrawny member of the card game said.
The man at the bar stared intently at Mei-Wan. "Or maybe he's in a whole other business altogether."
Hank took a sip of his whiskey. "To tell you the truth, we're looking for someone."
The moon-faced man turned to the bartender. "You hear that, Darby? They're looking for someone." He let out a short laugh. "Imagine that!"
Hank set his glass down. "I'm looking for a man named Jack McCall. We were told he was in here."
Darby narrowed his eyes. "Who told you that?"
"The mayor and sheriff."
Darby reached under the bar. A moment later, he came back up with a shotgun. He aimed it directly at Hank. "Then you just stay right where you're at and finish your drink until the sheriff and his deputies come by to pick you up."
The moon-faced man came over and pulled Hank's gun from its holster. He pulled Hank's wallet out of his back pocket.
Mei-Wan considered backing up toward the door, but two men moved in front of it to block the way. She held her ground behind Hank and tightened her grip on her luggage. There were things in her bag she simply couldn't let these men take.
"Will you take a look at this," the man going through Hank's wallet said as he pulled out the large collection of bills. "There's more than two thousand dollars here!"
"Chester Prange is going all out now," Darby said as the other man handed him the wallet. "You must be about the best hired killer in the world to earn that much money... and up front no less."
"I bet he's killed more than twenty men," the man in front of Hank said.
"What about it, mister?" Darby asked "How many men you killed?"
"What makes you think I've killed anyone?" Hank threw back at him.
"You've got the look of death in your eyes."
"Chester couldn't have come up with that much money," the moon-faced man said. "It's got to be the old man this time. If John's gotten involved we're gonna need more men."
"I don't work for anyone named John or Chester," Hank told them. "I'm just looking for my friend."
"What man runs around just looking for his friend with a Chinese woman?"
Mei-Wan became worried. Up to this point they had focused on Hank. But now, every eye in the saloon turned to her and she didn't like what she saw in them. She decided to do the only thing she could think of to change the tone of the conversation and the stares.
"I'm Jack's wife."
Silence.
Then laughter filled Darby's.
"Jack McCall married to a Chinese woman?!" Murdock called out from the card table.
"She is his wife," Hank reiterated.
"Maybe he isn't a hired killer, but a lunatic of some kind," Darby said.
"I say we have the sheriff put 'em both in jail until we can ship 'em out on the next stage," the beefy man holding Hank's gun said. He pointed it at his face. "I bet this man's wanted somewhere. There might be a reward for him."
A voice came from the direction of the saloon's doors. "It looks to me like you fellas have cornered a very dangerous individual."
Everyone turned to the new arrival.
Mei-Wan smiled wide. "Jack?"
Jack McCall, sporting a rough beard and wearing tan pants, a plain shirt, boots, and a worn hat, took several steps forward.
"We were thinking he was another of Chester's hired killers, Jack," Darby informed him.
"I wasn't talking about him." Jack turned and pointed to Mei-Wan. "The woman."
Mei-Wan frowned at her husband.
Jack grinned at her. "She's been known to turn entire worlds upside down with just a few words out of her mouth."
Laughter erupted from the denizens of Darby's.
"It's good to see you, Mei."
"You too, Jack." She smiled.
Jack put his arms around her and held her tight. "I'd pretty much given up on anyone coming after me," he said in a whisper.
As their embrace ended, Mei-Wan looked at the familiar stranger in front of her. "It just took us a while."
"And Hank Evans!" Jack shouted. "What in the holy hell are you doing all the way out here?"
Hank gave his younger friend a hearty bear hug.
"Just play along," Jack said into his ear.
"Uh, well, your wife insisted I find you. Women can be funny that way."
The saloon fell into hushed mumbling as all attention turned to Mei-Wan.
Jack eyed her for a moment. "They can at that," he said.
"So Jack, you're married, huh?" a scrawny, tight-eyed man said from the table with the card game. "Mind filling us in on the particulars?"
Jack shook his head. "I think this town has had its fill of stories about me lately."
"Come on, Jack. Inquiring minds want to know," Murdock said with a grin.
"You can just learn to mind your own business for a change." Jack turned to Hank. "Newspaper man. Nothing much lower than that."
"Except cattle rustlers," the moon-faced man added as he handed Hank his gun back.
"Or horse thieves," still another chimed in.
Darby raised an eyebrow. "Hired killers are worse still."
Jack nodded with an absent stare. "Can't argue with that," he murmured. He looked at Hank and Mei-Wan and realized there were things they needed to talk about, but Darby's Saloon was certainly the wrong place for that.
He turned to the men in the room. "Any of you men who were signed up to go on the cattle drive need to see Jedediah before sunset tomorrow. He'll give you your work assignments and your first pay."
The beefy man at the bar smiled wide. "I sure like the sound of that, Jack."
"Just don't go getting yourself drunk the night before this time, William."
Darby passed Hank's wallet back to him. "You may want to let the sheriff know these are friends of yours, Jack. He's probably got his deputies looking for 'em by now."
Jack glanced over at Hank and Mei-Wan. "I suppose it wouldn't do them much good to get themselves shot, would it?" Jack reached into his pants pocket and tossed a stack of gold coins to Darby. "In honor of the stubborn determination of women and old friends, the drinks are on me boys!"
A flurry of cheers filled the air as everyone clamored for a refill of their glasses. It was the distraction Jack wanted so that he, Hank, and Mei-Wan could have a moment away from the curious eyes of the crowd. "Let's go outside before they regain their interest in the two of you."
As they made their way back into the sunlit street, a worn out looking, bushy-bearded man in his mid-fifties carrying a rifle approached Jack. "You sure they're okay, Jack?" Jedediah asked his boss.
"I'd trust these two with my life, Jed."
The older man regarded Hank and Mei-Wan a moment. "That'd be good enough for me." The old ranch hand relaxed his stance.
"Jedediah, this is Hank Evans and Mei-Wan..." Jack hesitated for a moment, knowing he was just going to incite more questions, but he couldn't keep it from the man forever. "Mei-Wan McCall, my wife."
"Wife?" Jedediah let out a boisterous laugh. "I should'a known there was a reason you never show'd no interest in Miss Lowry," he said in a gruff voice. "A wife! Now that pest Murdock will have some real news to print."
"At least it's better than a story about more gunmen coming to town," Jack replied.
The mayor and sheriff ambled up to them.
"I take you know these two, Jack?" the sheriff asked.
"Yes, I do." Jack appreciated the concern everyone was showing him, but sooner or later they'd get to asking questions he didn't have any good answers for. He started to turn to Jedediah, but the sound of several horses barreling down the main street caught everyone's attention.
Clay Harwood took his rifle into both hands. "Finally the man himself."
"Maybe you should head back into Darby's, Jack," Mayor Pendergast suggested.
Jack set his jaw. "No. I think it's time we had this out."
"You let me handle this," the sheriff insisted.
Jack gave him a quick nod. "All I intend to do is talk, Sheriff."
Harwood walked forward to place himself between Jack and the oncoming horses.
John Prange whose skin had the appearance of worn leather and his eyes the look of a man who'd only recently understood his time had come and gone, pulled the reins of horse, bringing the animal to a stop. The fifty-eight year old motioned to the two other riders with him to stop beside him.
"Sheriff Harwood!" Prange called out. "I want you to arrest that man, right there!" He pointed directly at Jack. "I'm here to swear out a warrant for his arrest."
The sheriff was not amused. "What's this about, John?"
"McCall killed my boy, Luther, in cold blood and I want him to stand trial for it."
The sheriff took a step toward Prange. "John, if me or any of my deputies had been in the bank, we'd have done the same as Jack. Luther had just robbed the place and was about to shoot Miss Pendrake."
"I want justice for my son!" Prange demanded, undeterred.
"You darn well know there's no jury in this county'd convict Jack."
John Prange cast a wary eye Jack's direction. "I guess I underestimated you, McCall. I figured you for a fool having your ranch so close to town. I thought these folk would give you nothing but trouble over it." A sardonic grin came to his face. "Instead you got them all in your back pocket--- from the mayor on down."
"Now just a damn minute," Mayor Pendergast started.
"Where do those steaks you get fat on come from, George?" Prange asked with narrowed eyes. "They sure as hell don't come from my herds. You get those free of charge, don't you?"
Jack fought down the grin coming to his face. He'd always considered his "gifts" to the mayor and other city officials as merely a means of keeping them all out of his business, not as a way to buy them off.
"Jack is very generous to this town," Sheriff Harwood stated.
"Exactly my point."
One of the other two riders, Chester Prange, pulled his horse up to his father's. "How 'bout we get justice our own way, Pa?" His hand came to rest on the gun in his holster and a wide smile came to his face.
Horace Prange, the youngest of John's sons, a gaunt looking boy, edged his horse away from his brother's.
"I wouldn't," Harwood told Chester. "If I don't get you, Jedediah will."
Everyone turned to Jack's man. "You just move your hand away from that iron, boy," came Jedediah's gruff voice as he held a tight aim on Chester with his Springfield rifle.
John Prange shot Chester a sour frown. "I told you, no shootin' in town. Do as they told you."
Chester moved his hand away from the gun, but his smile remained. "Whatever you say, Pa."
John Prange turned his gaze toward Jack. "Abel Pierce's money can't protect you everywhere, Jack." He pulled the slack from his reins and glared at Harwood. "I came here looking for your kind of justice, Sheriff. But since you refuse to give it, I'll have to find justice my own way."
A moment later, John, Chester, and Horace Prange turned their horses and rode out of town, leaving a cloud of dust in their wake.
Jedediah lowered his rifle. "I ought to have shot Chester now, Jack. That boy's nothin' but trouble."
Sheriff Harwood grinned. "Something tells me you'll get a chance for that sooner or later." His face hardened. "You need to be careful, Jack. John wouldn't have come into town like this unless he was dead serious about gettin' you."
Jack nodded. "I think I've got things covered. In a few days we'll be on our way to Wichita and away from Prange."
Harwood glanced over at Hank. He still had him figured for a hired killer, but now it appeared he was on Jack's side. "I suppose you just might after all."
The crowd which had gathered during the confrontation began to disperse along with the sheriff and mayor.
"How about you go get the wagon so we can head home, Jed?" Jack asked.
The old hand was about to say something, but decided it could wait. He turned and walked up the street.
"Well, you've certainly made an impression," Hank said as he and Mei-Wan walked up to Jack. "This happen often?"
Jack frowned. "More so lately." He waved them to follow him. "Ever since I shot Luther at the bank, Prange's had someone gunning for me." Jack looked up in the direction of a large wooden building with the word "Hotel" on a sign out front. "You see that man?"
Mei-Wan and Hank turned toward the hotel and noticed a rawboned, hatchet-faced man standing under the awning, his eyes tightly focused on Jack.
"What about him?" Hank asked.
"His name's Silas Greene," Jack said. "He used to ride with Wild Bill Hickok, but now John Prange's paying for his services and from what I hear he doesn't come cheap."
"Hickok?" Mei-Wan asked. She considered telling Jack everything she and Hank had learned about Jack, Hickok, and the changes in the timeline, but there were still too many people around. Besides, she didn't think Jack would react well to most of it. "Have you told the sheriff about him?"
Jack chuckled. "Despite what Prange thinks, the sheriff doesn't take his orders from me. Greene's just here in town to keep an eye on me." He gave Greene a last look. "I doubt John can afford to keep paying him for much longer. His money ran out along with everyone else's after the panic last year."
"Panic?" Mei-Wan asked.
"Financial collapse." Jack went back to his previous train of thought. "After that, John fell on hard times. Some think that's why his boys turned to robbery, but up until the bank it had been minor stuff." Jack returned the wave of a shop keeper they passed. "I was hoping all of this would blow over until the winter. There are rumors of gold being found up in the Black Hills. Even if John doesn't go, I figure his boys'll pack up and head there."
Mei-Wan stopped in front of Jack; his casual attitude toward the threats on his life had become too much for her. "It won't blow over. In less than a week Prange's sons will ambush you on this cattle drive of yours. You will be killed."
"What?"
"We found your obituary, Jack."
"Damn." He smiled. "I guess I should have realized how much my helping out the town would bother old John. That's when this fight really started."
Hank chuckled. "The man doesn't like you being civic minded?"
"Well, when the economy went south last year, it got bad. Real bad. Fortunately I had some money saved away, in gold, and I was able to float the town for awhile. That and I still had my herd. Since he'd helped build this town, John Prange's pride didn't take it too well."
Mei-Wan glared at Jack. "You 'floated' the town? Are you insane?!"
He set his jaw. "People were starving, Mei. I couldn't very well let them die."
"Don't you understand? You were never meant to be here. From our perspective these people probably died five hundred years ago. It's history."
"Funny, but I find it a little hard to treat the living, breathing people in front of me in the detached scientific way you do."
Mei-Wan shook her head. "You're a fool, Jack."
Jack leaned toward Mei-Wan. "It might be best for us to discuss this later. It's gonna be a little hard to explain why we’re discussing their future as if it had already happened," he said, pointing to the crowd watching them.
Mei-Wan gave him a stern stare. "We can't discuss their future because we have no idea what it is. You made sure of that." She turned and headed toward Jedediah and the waiting wagon.
Jack watched her go. "Is it me or is she a lot more fiery tempered than I remember?"
Hank grinned a moment. "I think she's always had that fire within her." He turned to his friend. "She's just got more reasons these days to keep it well stoked."
