“Boy howdy, I’m sure glad to see you two lazy hombres are finally awake,” Jim grinned as he walked into Steve Masters’ and Rick Lewis’ room at Doctor Sweeney’s clinic. The young Ranger and the deputy had finally regained full consciousness, several days after the gun battle at the Rafter Q and the arrests of Mason Jeffers and Leah Collins. Sanderson’s jail had been turned into a makeshift hospital, where Mason Jeffers and Greg Saez had been treated and were recovering from their wounds. Doctor Frank Sweeney was also ensconced in the jail, brought out under armed guard and escorted to his clinic to treat patients when needed. With the physician under arrest, routine illnesses or injuries were handled by Ann, his capable wife.
“Who you callin’ lazy, Lieutenant?” Steve grinned.
“You two slug-a-beds,” Jim retorted. “Lyin’ around all day and leavin’ me to do all the law work around here.”
“We ain’t exactly just lyin’ around,” Lewis protested. “Seems to me both of us had considerable amounts of lead pulled outta our hides.”
“You call one slug considerable?” Jim joshed. “Heck, one slug don’t even tickle.” He then soberly asked, “Seriously, how’re you both feelin’?”
“Pretty good,” Steve answered, while Lewis added, “Well as can be expected, I guess. Now, you ready to tell us what all this was about?”
“You got the time for it?” Jim responded.
“We’re not goin’ anywhere,” Steve pointed out.
“I guess not,” Jim agreed. “Rick already knows most of the story, but I reckon he can stand hearin’ it again while I fill in the details. First, Mike Thompson was killed ‘cause he had no idea what he was ridin’ into. Neither did you Steve, and that nearly got you hung.”
“Yeah.” Steve rubbed the faint scar still visible around his neck. “I can still feel that rope. Rick’s told me a little bit about how the sheriff was behind all this. He sure had me fooled.”
As Jim began to answer, Ann Sweeney stepped into the room. “Lieutenant, there you are,” she said. “I’ve been waiting for you. Those stitches have to come out.”
“I figured I’d just let the doc take ‘em out when I headed down to the jail,” Jim answered.
“Nonsense,” Ann retorted. “I’ve removed hundreds of stitches.”
“But the Lieutenant was just about to fill us in,” Steve protested. “Can’t those stitches wait?”
“Yeah. They can,” Jim said.
“No, they can’t,” Ann disagreed, “But there’s no reason I can’t remove them right here. That way you can tell your story while I work on you. So you just take off your hat and shirt and sit on that corner stool,” she ordered.
“Guess I’ve got no choice.” Jim gave in, pulling off his Stetson and placing it on a table.
“Your shirt, Lieutenant,” Ann insisted.
“You’re gonna make me take it off, aren’t you?” Jim blushed. Even after all his years as a Ranger, he was still shy around women.
“Gee, I’m never slow about takin’ off my shirt when a pretty woman asks me to get undressed, Lieutenant,” Steve laughed.
“Neither were John Crowe and Mace Jeffers…and look where it got them,” Jim shot back.
“Reckon you’ve got a point,” Steve conceded.
“The shirt,” Ann repeated.
“All right.” Jim gave in, shrugging out of his shirt and tossing it alongside his hat.
“That’s better,” Ann said, as he settled onto the stool. “Now you can talk as much as you’d like, but hold still while I’m pulling out those stitches, so I don’t accidentally cut you with my scissors.”
“I’ll be a rock,” Jim grinned.
As the physician’s wife worked on him, Jim went over the events of the past weeks for Steve’s benefit, filling in the gaps for Rick Lewis.
“So all of this was because of greed,” Steve noted as Jim concluded.
“That’s right,” Jim agreed. “Shame about what it can do to some people.”
“I still don’t believe Leah Collins wanted her husband killed. John was a real decent sort, especially for a banker,” Lewis sadly observed. “And you think she was there when he was killed?”
“I’m certain of it,” Jim explained. “See, she and Sheriff Crowe told two different versions of Collins’ killin’. Leah said she found her husband already dead, and didn’t see or hear a thing, but the sheriff said she walked in on Gordy Webber while he was still in the bank. If she had, she couldn’t have helped but seen or heard him. And her husband would probably still have been breathin’, if he was stuck in the ribs and she came in while Webber was still in the bank. But the real reason I’m certain she was there is I found small piece of dress fabric that’d caught on a shelf corner in the vault and hadn’t been noticed. There was blood on it. Only person that could’ve come from was John Collins.”
“But why didn’t Crowe just say she’d been there?” Steve puzzled. “He was dyin’ anyway, so tellin’ the truth shouldn’t have made any difference to him.”
“He was still protectin’ her,” Jim explained. “Don’t forget, he was in love with her. He had no idea she was also havin’ an affair with Mace Jeffers. Leah Collins was smarter’n both of ‘em. She realized that neither man was gonna be satisfied with half-ownership of the mine. So she was gonna make sure no matter which one was left alive she’d be his wife.”
“She was smarter’n you too, Lieutenant,” Steve chuckled, “You never thought to watch out for her at the Rafter Q, and you let her get behind you with a gun. You’re just lucky she didn’t get you plumb in the middle of your back.”
“He’s even luckier she missed his kidney by just a couple of inches,” Ann Sweeney noted, as she removed another stitch from Jim’s side. “Only a few more to go, Lieutenant.”
“You’re both right,” Jim ruefully conceded, “And how about you, Ann? How are you holding up?”
“I’ll make out,” Ann replied. “I have enough knowledge of medicine I can keep this practice going until another physician is found to relocate here in Sanderson. After that…”. She shrugged.
“There’ll be enough sick folks and babies bein’ born to keep both you and a doc in business,” Lewis assured her.
“Not only that, but once the disposition of the Seven Winds property is settled, you might very well find yourself part owner, Ann,” Jim stated. “I’m sure things’ll be tied up in court for quite some time, since your husband, Jeffers, and Leah still own the company, but they’ll lose it once they’re convicted. And if Pablo Cruz left any heirs they’ll have a claim. But you should still receive somethin’. Plus I spoke to the hombres from the Texas Pacific yesterday, and they assured me the railroad still intends to complete that spur to Sanderson. They figure the mine’ll be developed eventually, and they think this county’s gonna grow in any event.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant, and you Rick,” Ann gratefully answered. “You’ve both taken a load off my mind.”
“But how’d you get onto the sheriff?” Steve insisted as Jim sighed, looking up at the ceiling.
“Couple of things,” Jim answered. “First, the attorney’s hangin’ that obviously wasn’t. Plus it was too convenient havin’ Rick outta town when you were nearly lynched. Crowe made sure it’d look like he tried to stop your hangin’, but he was in on it all along. And by the way Steve, if you’d recalled the handwriting in the note you got wasn’t the same as the letter Cap’n Trumbull has, I might’ve cleared things up even sooner. Anyway, there were a lot of little inconsistencies that added up to make me suspicious of the sheriff.”
“I can’t figure why Crowe didn’t just leave Sloane’s death as a suicide,” Steve observed. “There was no reason to tell anyone it was a murder.”
“Sometimes criminals make things more complicated than they need to,” Jim noted. “They forget the simpler the story, the better. And you’re right. If Crowe’d just let things be, it would’ve made the trail a lot harder to follow. I reckon he figured you or Mike would’ve realized Sloane had been murdered, and that would’ve shown the sheriff up for the liar he was. So he told part of the truth, that Sloane’s body was found in his office. He never figured I’d check that rafter.”
“How’d you figure out he and Jeffers were both havin’ an affair with Leah?” Rick asked.
“Files I found in Sloane’s office. Rebecca Jeffers had asked Sloane how to go about obtaining a divorce. She suspected her husband and Leah had been meeting. And Jeffers wanted to change his will.”
“But how about the sheriff?” Steve insisted.
“I wasn’t sure about him until the end,” Jim explained, “I had a hunch he and Leah were seein’ each other, but nothin’ I could prove. When he still tried to keep her outta things while he was dyin’, I knew for certain.”
“Speakin’ of hunches,” Rick said, “How’d you know most of Jeffers’ hands wouldn’t side him when we went to bring him in?”
“Because like I told you out at the Rafter Q, most of’em were cowpunchers, not gunfighters. And at least some of ‘em would’ve been thinkin’ about when I’d accused Jeffers of killin’ his own wife. That’s why I made sure I called out that charge loud and clear.”
“But what if you’d been wrong?” Rick demanded.
“Then you’n I would’ve been filled so fulla lead we could’ve sunk a river-boat,” Jim chuckled. “Listen, we’ve all been lawmen long enough to know a lot of the time it’s just a gut feelin’ that leads you to the hombre you’re after.”
“There. I’m finished Lieutenant,” Ann stated as she pulled the last stitch from Jim’s side. “And these two men need their rest. Once I get you bandaged, I’ll have to ask you to leave.”
“But there’s a lot I still don’t know,” Steve protested.
“There’ll be plenty of time to fill you in on the rest,” Jim promised. “I’m pretty sure Austin’s gonna order me to stay here in Sanderson until Rick is well enough to perform his duties again. And I’ll have to be here until the circuit judge arrives for the trials. By the time I’m ready to leave, you’ll be strong enough to ride with me.”
“You think they’ll all hang?” Steve asked.
“Jeffers for certain. I’d guess Doc Sweeney will get life in Huntsville.”
“How about Leah?” Rick asked.
“Hard to tell,” Jim shrugged. “Not too many juries would hang a woman. But she’ll be in prison a long time, and her life is ruined in any event.”
“That’s enough,” Ann ordered, “Get dressed and shoo!”
“Yes, ma’am,” Jim laughed.
After leaving the clinic, Jim ambled down the street to Murphy’s livery, where Sam and Yancey, Steve’s blaze-faced chestnut gelding, were stretched out on their sides in a corral, dozing in the sun.
“Hey pard,” he called to his paint, “I’ll bet you’re lookin’ forward to a cou-pla’ weeks of doin’ nothin’ but hangin’ around, gettin’ fat and lazy.” Sam merely lifted his head, nickered softly, then plopped it back down, rubbing the side of his face in the dust to scratch an itchy spot. “All right, I get the hint,” Jim laughed. “I’ll see you later.”
Jim slowly walked from the stable to the sheriff’s office, exchanging pleasantries and touching the brim of his Stetson in greeting to passersby. Reaching the office, he took a chair from inside onto the boardwalk, and, tipping it back, propped his bootheels on the hitchrail to lean back against the wall. “I’m tired of havin’ to buy new hats,” he grumbled, as he recreased his still-stiff new Stet-son and settled it uncomfortably on his head. “Seems like every time I finally get a hat or shirt broke in to where it’s comfortable, some hombre shoots it fulla holes.” He tilted the Stetson over his eyes and settled more deeply into the chair. “Certainly gonna be good to have nothin’ to do but watch a nice, quiet town for two or three weeks,” he thought. “Sure, I wish I was headin’ home to Julia and Charlie, but I reckon this is the next best thing.” Stretched out in the warm sunshine, Jim soon dozed off.
The weary Ranger was jolted awake by the sound of gunfire, yelps of pain, and cries of “Gotcha’, Rangers!”. Jim leapt to his feet, his hand dropping to the Colt on his left hip as two young Texas Rangers, doubled over with hands pressed to their bellies, staggered out of the alley alongside the office and thudded to the dirt, while the men who’d gunned them down pumped more slugs into their lifeless bodies.
Jim lifted his hand from his gun butt, grinning sheepishly as he realized the Rangers who’d been shot down were Adam Alvelo and Kim Lewis, Rick’s son, as they played a rowdy game of lawmen and outlaws. The renegades who’d downed them were their friends Roger Kergaravat, Sean Iannazzo, and Tony Clemente. Even as he watched, the “dead” Rangers sprang to their feet, blazing away with the rusted old Colts they carried, and Roger, Sean, and Tony screamed in pain as they crumpled to the road. “Ya can’t kill a Ranger and get away with it, hombres!” Kim triumphantly shouted.
“Don’t count on it!” Sean yelled back, leaping to his feet. Banging away at each other, the boys raced down the sidewalk, stopping short as they reached Jim.
“Hey! Howdy, Ranger Jim!” Adam exclaimed.
“I see you’ve got your hands full with these renegades,” Jim grinned.
“They sure do,” Roger shouted, pointing his gun at Adam’s chest and dropping the hammer. Adam let out a yell, grabbed his chest, then spun and draped himself over the hitchrail. “Just killed me another Ranger,” Roger stated triumphantly. Instantly, Kim shoved his gun against Roger’s back and pulled the trigger. “That’s for my pard,” he snarled, as Roger yelped and collapsed to the boardwalk. Tony, Sean, and Kim whirled to face each other, shot, and fell at Jim’s feet.
“Looks like you’re all goners,” Jim chuckled. “Mebbe now we’ll finally get some peace and quiet around here.”
“Nah. There’s lots more outlaws in these parts,” Adam said as he pulled himself off the rail. “We’ll be fightin’ ‘em all day.”
“Well, all of you just watch your stray slugs,” Jim warned as the rest of the boys came to their feet. “And make sure you’re home by suppertime, or I’ll have to run you varmints in.”
“We will, Ranger Jim,” Roger promised, as he shoved his gun into his waistband. Moments later, he and his pards had disappeared down the alley, still blazing away at each other.
Smiling, Jim once again settled into his chair, propped his boots on the hitchrail, and stretched out in the sunshine. “Yessir, it sure is gonna be good here the next coupla’ weeks, where the only renegades I’ve gotta keep my eyes on are a bunch of kids.” Moments after tilting his Stetson over his eyes, Jim Blawcyzk was peacefully sleeping.