Judith Stacy - The Heart Of A Hero

“Jess Logan?”

A moment ticked by before Jess recognized the man in the apron. Years had creased his face and peppered his dark hair with gray, but there was no mistaking that distinctive voice, deep and strong.

“Leo Turner.” Jess said, and nodded, unsure of the welcome he’d get here—or anywhere in Walker. “Good to see you again.” He offered his hand and they shook.

“Last I heard, you’d died in a Mexican prison. Good to see you, too. Sorry to hear about your sister.”

“Thank you.”

“Jimmy?” Leo took a licorice from the glass jar beside him and held it up. “Want one?”

The boy scampered over and Jess lifted him onto the counter. He took the candy and bit into it.

Leo chuckled. “That boy loves sweets.”

Rory offered a gap-tooth smile. “Who don’t?”

“Cassie used to bring him in with her every Saturday, you know, give him licorice if he was quiet while she shopped.”

“He’s not talking much these days,” Jess said. “Maybe this will do the trick.”

“Bribing the child into talking? I should hope not.” A woman breezed in through the curtain from the back room and stared disapprovingly at the men. “Leo, I think you’d know better.”

“Now, Emma, honey,” Leo said, “we’re not hurting anything.”

Efficiently she straightened the counter beside Leo and gave Jess a glance. “You’ve certainly got your work cut out for you, young man.”

Memories stabbed him like a knife, Leo’s wife looking at him in that way, using that tone of voice, those exact words so many years ago. Years had changed her looks, but that was all.

Jess nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Your sister was a treasure in this town. We’ll miss her.” Emma brushed the countertop with a linen cloth.

Rory coughed and sagged against his cane. “What about you coming over to the house and sit a spell, boy? Have supper with us?”

He could imagine the look on Alma Garrette’s face, seeing him walk into her parlor and sit down at her dining-room table. “Can’t today. Some other time.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that, boy.”

The bell jingled as . the door opened again. Leo waved. “Morning, Sheriff.”

Rory’s lip curled down. “Horse’s ass,” he muttered.

“Morning Leo, Emma.” The sheriff sauntered to the counter, hung his thumbs in his gun belt and reared back, giving Jess the once-over. His lips curled down. “I know who you are, Logan.” .

Jess’s back stiffened. He hadn’t especially liked Sheriff Buck Neville when he’d first arrived in town and asked about his sister’s children. Now, looking at the stocky, muscular man with the tin badge pinned to his vest, he liked him even less. “Is that so?”

“Yeah, that’s so.” Sheriff Neville leaned forward, crowding Jess. “I know about you. I know about what you did over in Kingston.”

Jess felt every gaze in the room bore into him; apparently everybody knew about Kingston. Jess’s gut tightened but he didn’t flinch.

“I run a clean town here. I don’t like your kind hanging around. You so much as spit wrong, Logan, and I’ll throw your ass in jail so fast you. won’t know what hit you.” Sheriff Neville jabbed a finger at him. “Don’t you forget it.”

He left the store and slammed the door behind him.

A long awkward moment dragged by before Leo spoke. “Don’t pay him no mind, Jess.”

Rory squirted a wad into the spittoon. “Mighty uppity for a lawman in a sleepy little town like Walker.”

“Well, I think Sheriff Neville is doing a fine job,” Emma declared. “I don’t know where you could find a better lawman.”

Rory waved away her comment. “He thinks he’s some big-time sheriff, stopping train robberies and rounding up gangs. Just like—what’s his name? That lawman in them dime novels. Who is it, Leo?”

Leo laughed. “Oh, yeah, I know who you mean. He thinks he’s Leyton Lawrence.”

“Show him.” Rory pointed at the display of dime novels behind the counter. “Show ol’ Jess.”

“Just got these new ones in yesterday.” Leo took the slender book off the shelf and held it up. “See? Leyton Lawrence, The Legendary Layman.”

“Yeah, that’s him.” Rory laughed, then fell into a coughing fit.

“Honestly, you men.” Emma breezed past them. “You’ll all be singing a different tune if the Toliver gang heads this way. You’ll be glad Sheriff Neville is on the job.”

Leo shook his head. “Oh, Emma, the Toliver gang hasn’t been to these parts in months.”

Rory squinted up at him. “I’ll bet ol’ Neville wishes they’d come this way. Maybe he could have got a book writ about him, too.”

“Don’t be silly,” Emma said. “That Leyton Lawrence isn’t real.”

Leo shrugged. “You wouldn’t know it by the way these books sell. I can’t keep them on the shelves. Everybody wants to read about the next adventure of the Legendary Lawman. You ever read these things, Jess?”

Jess eyed the book, then blew out a heavy breath. “Read them? No.”

“Ol’ Sheriff Neville does—I’ll guarantee it.” Rory laughed again.

“I need some supplies, Leo.” Jess passed the dime novel back to him.

“Sure thing. Your sister ran an account with me.

You want me to add it to hers?”

Jess caught Emma’s disapproving glare. He shook his head. “No, I’ll pay cash. Did Cassie owe you anything?”

Leo waved him away. “Nothing worth mentioning.” ,

“I want to make it. right.”

Jess ordered his supplies and paid for them, including Cassie’s tab, and made arrangements to pick them up later on the way out of town.

“See you later, boy,” Rory called. “And watch out for that Legendary Lawman.”

Jess chuckled as he guided Jimmy but of the mercantile ahead of him. That laugh caught in his throat, though, as Alma Garrette stepped up onto the boardwalk in front of him.

“Morning, Mrs. Garrotte.” Jess tipped his hat.

She bristled. “I’didn’t see you at services on Sunday. Everybody wanted to know why. Your sister always brought the children to services, you know.”

He hadn’t felt like praying lately, and certainly not in this town where he knew everyone would stare a hole through him if he walked into the church.

Alma bent and pulled Jimmy closer. “Now, let’s have a look at you.” She tugged at his clothes and peered behind his ears. “Thin, mighty thin. And in need of a good scrubbing, too. Did you let him bathe himself?”

Jess frowned. Was he supposed to wash the boy? He’d set out soap and a pan of water for him in the kitchen, wasn’t that enough?

“Humph! I thought so.” Alma’s lips drew together in a tight pucker. “The good people of Walker aren’t going to stand by and let your sister’s children fall to ruin, Jess Logan. You best remember that.”

She pushed past him and into the mercantile. Through the window, Jess saw her huddled together with Emma Turner. He knew they were talking about him.

Well, damned if he cared. Jess strode off down the street, a knot hardening in his belly.

“Those two old biddies can talk all they want,” Jess said to Jimmy. “They made up their minds about me, anyway. A long time ago.”

As they passed the Green Garter Saloon a hand reached out. Jess spun around and grabbed his Colt Peacemaker on his thigh.

“Whoa, there!” The saloon keeper threw up both hands and laughed heartily. “Pretty fast on the draw. I guess what they said about you is true, Jess.”

He relaxed marginally and glared at the barrelchested man with the bushy mustache.

“Don’t tell me you don’t remember me, after all that liquor I slipped you and Nate when you were kids.”

“Saul?”

He laughed again and patted his round belly. “That’s right. Come on inside and have a drink.”

Jess holstered his gun and nodded toward Jimmy. “I got the boy here.”

“Won’t take a minute. Sit over here, son.” Saul pointed to the wooden bench alongside the saloon and urged Jess inside. “We’ve got some catching up to do.”

Jess looked back over his shoulder at Jimmy swinging his feet, still eating licorice. “You stay put.”

A couple of men sat in the corner, but Jess didn’t recognize them. More new faces in the town he used to call home. He edged up to the bar.

“Bring back some memories?” Saul slid him a beer.

Jess looked at the faded picture over Saul’s head, the dusty shelves and the scarred floor. “Nothing much has changed.”

“Seen the Vernon brothers since you’ve been back?”

“Are they still around?”

“Shoot, yeah. And you’ll be glad to know they ain’t changed a whit.” Saul leaned his elbows on the bar. “Remember the time you and the Tompkins boy got drunk—well, hell, I guess you weren’t ever in the place that you weren’t drunk—and you climbed up on the bar here and shot out the lights in the store across the street. Then the two of you took off out of here when the sheriff came in, and ran smack into Mrs. Murray and knocked her right into the horse trough. Lordy, I thought I’d bust a gut laughing.”

Jess leaned on the bar and chuckled at the memory. “How is old Mrs. Murray, anyway?”

Saul’s face grew solemn. “She passed away a couple of years back.”

Jess averted his eyes and sipped his beer.

“Sorry to hear about your sister. She was a good woman, teaching at the school, fending for herself and those kids all alone. Everybody in town thought the world of her.” Saul laughed again and chucked Jess on the arm. “Fact is, couldn’t nobody figure how she ended up with a no-account fellow like you for a brother.”

Jess shifted uncomfortably and drained his glass. “I got to be on my way, Saul. Thanks for the beer.” He . tossed coins on the bar.

“keep your money.” Saul pushed the coins back at him. “Having you in town again is going to send my profits right through the roof!”

Jess pulled his Stetson lower on his forehead and left the bar, sucking in a big gulp of fresh air. Somehow, being in the Green Garter again seemed stifling.

The crowd on the street had picked up some. It was nearly noon and his belly reminded him of the meager breakfast he’d had; he’d lost most of his appetite cleaning strawberry jam off the table, chair, floor, Jimmy and himself.

He motioned to the child still seated on the bench. “Let’s go eat.”

With no desire to run into anyone else who remembered him, Jess chose the Blue Jay Cafe. It looked crowded and that was a good sign, so he went in and took a seat in the corner.

“Nice place,” he said to Jimmy as the boy climbed into the chair across from him. Jess looked around at the clean, orderly restaurant. “Don’t recall the last time I ate on a tablecloth.”

Jimmy squirmed onto his knees and said nothing.

Jess laid his Stetson on the chair beside him as the serving girl headed his way. A pretty woman, he decided, though he wasn’t usually partial to blondes. He preferred dark-haired women, with equally dark eyes. Round, soft women. Women like Sarah Wakefield. Now, there was a woman who could—

Jess plowed both hands through his hair. What was he doing, having such thoughts? About a teacher, no less. A prim and proper teacher.

His belly warmed suddenly, reminding him of the weeks he’d spent on the trail getting to Walker. Weeks of hard riding, with no stops for taking care of life’s necessary pleasures. He wondered if Miss Flora still had her parlor house at the edge of town. He needed to pay her a call soon. Real soon.

“What are you two gents wanting today?”