Bill put away the silver dog whistle (an ingenious way to subdue a bunch of werewolves, if we’ve ever heard of one) and removed two balls of cotton from his ears.
Frank could scarcely believe his eyes.
“Dad?” he said.
“Bill?” Jane said.
“Mr. Hickok?” Annie said.
In a flash, Bill drew his ivory-handled pistols (which he must have received back from Charlie) and pointed one at Swearengen and the other at Jack McCall, whose face had gone pale, as if he were seeing a ghost.
“I killed you,” Jack McCall said incredulously.
“Guess it didn’t take,” Bill said.
Frank still had his hands up in surrender. “Dad? You’re alive!”
“Yep,” Bill said. “It takes more than a lead bullet to put me in the ground.”
And then Frank understood what Bill meant by that. “You’re a garou?”
Bill nodded. “We all have our secrets, I reckon, and we get to decide when to tell them. So I guess now I’m letting you know.”
“Wait. You’ve been a woof this entire time?”
“Since you were a toddler,” Bill confessed. “You went through a bit of a biting phase.”
Frank’s mouth dropped open. “You’re a garou because I was teething?”
“I didn’t take it personally. I was just relieved you didn’t bite the nanny.”
“Dad! You should have told me!”
Bill shook his head. “You had your own burdens. I didn’t want you to carry mine.”
“I don’t care. You’re here. That’s all that matters.” There weren’t enough words in the dictionary to pin down all the emotions that were washing over Frank. His father was alive!
“I knew they’d never really get you down, Bill,” sniffled Jane.
Frank glanced at Annie, who had been watching the exchange with her hands clasped beneath her chin and a wide smile on her face. She loved happy endings and family reunions, even at the most inopportune times. But then she frowned. “Wait a minute. Am I the only one who isn’t a garou here?” she asked.
“You hate garou,” Frank said.
Annie tsked. “I don’t like being left out. Besides, I can think of a few garou who I love.”
Frank’s breath caught. “Is that so?”
“Jane is my best friend,” Annie said.
“Is that so?” said Jane. “That’s nice.”
“Oh,” said Frank.
Someone in the stagecoach cleared a throat. It was Walks Looking. Still in there with her sister doing something with the dynamite.
Annie gasped. “Oh, and Walks Looking’s a garou too, and also one of my best friends.”
Bill chuckled. Then Annie gestured to him. “And Mr. Hickok. I don’t really know him that well, of course, but I’m already growing quite fond of him.”
Jack McCall cleared his throat.
“Not you,” Annie said.
“And not me, either, huh?” Frank couldn’t stop his smile.
“Well.” Annie smiled right back. “You’re growing on me.”
Jane gave an exasperated snort. “Cut it out! Isn’t this supposed to be the part where we all reunite with Bill?”
Oh, yeah. Frank strode over and threw his arms around his dad.
Then Jane came over and threw her arms around Frank and Bill.
And then Annie followed behind Jane, trying to throw her arms around all three, but really getting no farther than putting them around Jane and touching Frank with her fingertips.
“Okay, okay,” Bill said. “That’ll do, kids. That’ll do.”
Then they heard the distinct sound of a gun cocking. All that hugging meant that Bill hadn’t been able to keep aiming his pistols at Swearengen and McCall.
“What a touching scene,” Al Swearengen drawled.
The hugging quartet froze. Frank glanced over his father’s shoulder to see Al Swearengen with a small shiny pistol pointed at the back of Bill’s head. Not this again, thought Frank. He was getting so sick of this hostage situation that kept happening tonight.
“No, really, I’m shedding a tear.” Swearengen wiped an imaginary tear from her cheek. “I’ve got a silver bullet right here with your name on it, Bill.” Swearengen purred. “I guess if you want something done right, you’ve got to do it yourself.”
Frank didn’t want to imagine going through Bill’s death a second time. He decided right then that he’d give his own life, to keep that from happening again.
“Enough of the group hug,” Swearengen said. “Let go of Wild Bill.”
Frank sighed. He was out of time. “Annie, I want you to know that I love you.”
“Crick your leg up,” Annie replied.
“Huh?” Frank said eloquently.
“I’m talking to Jane,” Annie whispered.
“Huh?” Jane said just as eloquently.
“Bend your leg. So I can step on it,” Annie said. “My best friend and I are working on a plan.”
“It’s nice that I’m your best friend, Annie, but now’s probably not the time for stepping on legs,” Jane said. “Swearengen’s about to kill Bill. Again.”
“Do it,” Annie commanded.
“Okay,” Jane grumbled.
Swearengen stepped closer. “Stop hugging.” She cocked the pistol again, even though it seemed only for show.
Suddenly there was an explosion off to the side of the road. Fire bloomed into the night air. At the same time, Annie catapulted upward, somersaulting over the group hug, and kicked the pistol out of Swearengen’s hand. “I did it!” she exclaimed upon landing. “Oh, and thank you, Walks Looking and Many Horses. That was a dynamite idea.”
She would have continued to congratulate everyone on their success at disarming the bad guy, but Swearengen pulled a knife from her cleavage and held it to Annie’s throat. “I’ve got your girl!” Swearengen cried. “Don’t make a move.”
“Not again!” groaned Frank. He and Jane were still facing Bill, and away from Swearengen. Bill quietly handed one of his guns to Frank. He looked at Jane, but Jane just touched the bullwhip at her hip. Bill gave a slight nod.
“Now, everybody is gonna settle down,” Swearengen said. McCall grabbed the pistol from the ground and tried to cock it a third time.
Frank side-eyed Jane, who side-eyed him back. Jane glanced at the ground, where an empty sardine can lay in the dirt. (Littering was a problem in 1876, too.) She raised her eyebrows.
Frank winked.
With her toe, Jane kicked the can up, caught it, and put it in front of Frank, who used the reflection to target the perfect shot. He swung Bill’s revolver over his shoulder, aimed, and fired.
He missed.
But a small hole appeared in Jack McCall’s hand. The creepy son of a biscuit then dropped the gun, doubled over, and cradled his fingers.
Then, while Swearengen was looking at McCall, Jane dove to the side, tucked into a roll, and cracked her whip.
Swearengen’s knife went flying.
They all stood still for a few minutes, panting, reassessing the situation. It seemed (for the moment anyway) that the bad guys were down again. The good guys had their victory.
Walks Looking and Many Horses came out from inside the stagecoach, holding sticks of dynamite. Jack McCall moaned and clutched at his hand. Swearengen started to swear profusely. Jane stuffed the dirty handkerchief into her ex-ma’s mouth. “This is going to hurt me more than it hurts you,” she said.
Bill rubbed his hand over Frank’s hair. “You did well, kids. Now let’s tie up those dirty rats.”
Jane hog-tied McCall and Swearengen in eight seconds and seven seconds flat, respectively.
“We’re gonna need them to walk,” Frank pointed out.
Jane untied their feet in five seconds and six seconds flat, respectively. “Now, you guys better get ready to walk.”
In the meantime, Annie, Walks Looking, and Many Horses had gathered up the stagecoach horses. “I think there’s enough for everybody,” Annie said.
“So listen up, you prisoners,” Jane amended herself. “You guys better get ready to ride sheepishly into town, where you’re gonna hang by your toenails.”
“Trial,” Annie whispered.
“Where you’re gonna get a fair trial, this time with no obstruction or collusion. And then you’ll hang—”
“If convicted,” Annie whispered.
“Would you please just let me threaten?”
Annie held up her hands. “Fair enough.” Then she turned to Frank. “Remember that time you used a sardine can to shoot the pistol out of Jack McCall’s hand?”
“You mean, three minutes ago?” Frank asked.
Annie smiled. “That was so gosh-darn amazing.”
Frank knew she meant it, otherwise she never would have used such harsh language.
“Looks like I missed out on all the fun.” The voice came from Seth Bullock, who had just arrived on a horse, with Charlie Utter trailing behind on Silver the donkey. “I believe there are some arrests to be made,” Mr. Bullock said.
“Too late,” Jane said. “I already made the arrests.”
Bullock pointed to the metal star on his chest. “I know you did the hard work. But we’re going to follow the letter of the law.”
“Which letter is that?” Jane asked. “I only know a few of them.”
“And as for you two,” Bullock pointed to Swearengen and Jack McCall. “I expect you will spend what little remains of your life in a tiny cell.”
“I hope it’s not the one I broke,” Jane said.