“Why, Miss Becca, I’m sure you know how it is. All those men work out at Back Trail for Frank’s father. They aren’t going to say anything against him. Too bad Frank isn’t more like his brother.”
“I don’t care if his father has all the money in the world, that doesn’t give him the right to act like a lout. Well, I just won’t make the mistake of going near him again.”
“Miss Becca,” Lonnie called. “How about if you come over here and play a game of poker with us.”
“All right,” she said. “But no crying if I win.”
There were sixteen saloons in Dodge City, and because Mo and Dalton had announced their intention to visit every one of them, Matt and Tom had no choice but to follow along. The two older men were being very restrained with their drinking, but Mo and Dalton were not, and by the time they stepped into the Lucky Chance, which was only their fifth saloon of the night, Mo and Dalton were already unsteady on their feet.
“Whoa, hold it there, partner,” Matt said, reaching out to grab hold of Dalton to keep him from falling when they pushed in through the bat-wing doors.
“This is the first time I’ve ever been durnk,” Dalton said.
“Durnk?” Mo said, and he laughed. “Are you durnk?”
“I guess I am a little,” Dalton said. “You won’t tell Pa I got durnk—uh—drunk, will you?” Dalton laughed. “I said durnk, didn’t I? I said durnk and I meant to say... ,” Dalton stopped in mid-sentence and stared at one of the tables in the middle of the room. It wasn’t the table that got his attention as much as it was the woman sitting at the table.
“What the hell?” Dalton asked. He started across the room toward the table.
“What is it?” Matt asked. “What has he seen?”
“It isn’t what, it’s who,” Tom said.
Tom watched as Dalton approached Rebecca. He could not have been more shocked if he had seen his own mother sitting at that table. What was Rebecca doing here? He knew that she had run away from home to avoid him. But was becoming a prostitute in a place like this really the answer?
He had never heard the exact reason why Rebecca left, he knew only that it had come on the same night that he had told her that he couldn’t love her. What an idiot he had been not to have accepted the love she had so innocently given. He did love her, he loved her as he thought he would never be able to love anyone again after Martha, but he had spurned her. Had he driven her to this? Even in the gaudy dress she was wearing now, she was beautiful. But what had she done to her hair? It was much shorter than he remembered.
Tom stepped up to the bar and ordered a whiskey, whereas at the other saloons he had been drinking only beer.
“Who is that woman?” Matt asked. “What’s this all about?”
“That woman is his sister,” Tom said as he tossed the whiskey down.
“Rebecca!” Dalton said, shouting the word so loudly that it stopped most of the other conversation in the saloon.
Recognizing Dalton’s voice, Rebecca gasped, then turned around. “Dalton! What are you doing here?”
“I might ask you the same thing,” Dalton replied.
“Please, Dalton, it’s not what you think,” Rebecca said.
“It’s not what I think? What am I supposed to think when I see my sister in a place like this—dressed,” he held his hand out then made a dismissive move with it, “like you are dressed.”
“Sonny, you need to go on about your business and let her be,” Lovejoy said, standing then. “Your sister is a whore, and she don’t need your interference.”
“I am
Lovejoy walked over to Rebecca and put his arm around her, pulling her up against his side as he faced Dalton. “Go on, Sonny. Can’t you see you aren’t wanted here?” Lovejoy asked.
“Let me go!” Rebecca said, twisting away from him. Lovejoy reached for her again, but this time Dalton stepped up to him and pushed him away.
“Leave my sister alone!” he said.
“Well, now,” Lovejoy said. He smiled, but rather than displaying joy or humor, the smile merely stretched his lips and tightened the skin on his face so that it looked just like the skull, in the black “Jolly Roger” flag that pirates once flew.
“You’ve sort of moved this one up a peg or two, haven’t you, sonny? If you had just gone on and minded your own business like I told you to, nothing more would have happened. But that wasn’t good enough for you, was it? Well, I see that you are wearing a gun. How about we settle this now? Draw.”
“What?” Dalton asked. “Are you crazy? What do you mean, draw? I’m not getting into a gunfight with you.”
“You already have, and I’m goin’ to kill you for it,” Lovejoy said. “Draw.”
“If you want my friend you’re going to have to come through me!” Mo shouted.
Without another word, or even the hint that he had heard Mo, Lovejoy drew his pistol. Mo was quick, and he prided himself on his fast draw and marksmanship, but his reflexes had been greatly slowed by the whiskey, and he hadn’t expected Lovejoy to draw against him without the slightest recognition. By the time he realized Lovejoy was drawing, it was too late. To Mo it looked as if his pistol had just magically appeared in his hand. Mo managed to draw his pistol, but not fast enough. Reflexively, he pulled the trigger on his own pistol, firing a slug into the floor, even as he was falling face down.
“Mo!” Dalton and Rebecca yelled at the same time. Dalton started toward his fallen friend, but Lovejoy called out to him.
“Hold it right there, Sonny,” Lovejoy said. His pistol was back in his holster. “Your friend had his chance.”
“He wasn’t just my friend,” Dalton said with tears streaming down his face. “He was my brother.”
“Yeah? Well, then when you get to hell, you can tell him that Frank Lovejoy said hello. ’Cause now it’s your turn.”
Rebecca stepped in front of Dalton and held her arms out, facing Lovejoy.
“If you shoot him, you are going to have to shoot me first,” she said.
“Well, hell, honey. Shootin’ you ain’t goin’ to be all that hard to do. It’s not like if I don’t shoot you, you are goin’ to warm my bed. You’ve already let me know how you feel. But me and your brother have some unfinished business, so either you step out of the way, or I’ll come through you to get to him.”
Tom started toward Lovejoy, but Matt reached out toward him and pulled him back.
“No, Tom, wait,” Matt said.
“I’m not going to just stand here and watch him kill the woman I love,” Tom said with quiet anger.
Matt reached down and snatched Tom’s pistol from its holster.
“What are you doing?” Tom asked, angrily.
“Let me take care of this,” Matt said. “I expect I’ve had more experience.”
“I’m not going to tell you again, Becca. Get out of the way,” Lovejoy said.
“Lovejoy!” Matt called.
“Who the hell are you?” Lovejoy asked.
“Let’s say I’m a friend to the boy,” Matt said. “And I was a friend to the man you killed.”
“And so now, like the avenging angel, you want to take me on,” Lovejoy said. “Is that it?”
“Something like that,” Matt said.
Lovejoy didn’t call the move. Instead, just as he had done with Mo, he made a lightning draw. Only now, by the time Lovejoy’s pistol cleared the holster, Matt’s gun was already in his hand, and a little finger of flame erupted from the end of the barrel.
Matt’s bullet hit Lovejoy in the heart, giving him just enough time before he died to register his shock over having been beaten in a gunfight by a simple cowboy.
Lovejoy wasn’t the only one awestruck. Nearly everyone in the saloon had seen Lovejoy in action before. They were convinced that there was no one alive who could beat him, and yet they had just seen it done.
Before the smoke cleared, Sheriff Hamilton Bell was pushing through the front door with pistol in hand. Seeing two men lying on the floor, one of them Lovejoy, he used the barrel of his pistol to push his hat back on his head.
