Cheaters in the West

Samuel Dansen's Journal June 6, haven't written much because up until now it's been pretty boring around here. I do the same thing every day it seems. I move drunks from the Saloon to the jail where they can sleep it off. Then get them to pay their fines the next morning and let them go. Sometimes it seems like the same guys get drunk every night, and their fines are more like rent so they can have a roof over their heads while they sleep. Lord knows the fine is cheaper than either the boarding house or the hotel, so I might have to take up drinking myself. Something interesting is going on though I don't know how serious I should take it. One of the women working at the boarding house seems to have taken a liking to me. She's a really pretty Mexican woman with long dark beautiful hair and pretty brown eyes. I might like her too, except for the fact that I'm really not sure how I feel about women after all of that shit I went through with Arabella. One thing is for sure though, I haven't thought about Arabella in weeks so maybe I am getting over her.

Samuel Dansen's Journal June 16. Everything changed today. My life is going in a completely different direction than I'd envisioned. One of the duties the Sheriff assigned to me was the task of meeting new arrivals from other places. When the stage comes in I meet them and help them figure out where to go, to get settled in. One of the new arrivals today was a Miss Constance Farmwell. She's going to be the new school teacher at the church school. She's 22 years old, and has blond hair and blue eyes. She's very slim and tall for a woman and must be the prettiest thing I've ever seen. She's the kind of woman I'd marry. The problem is she looks just like Arabella. She might be a bit taller, and a bit smaller up on top, but other than that they could be twins. Maybe all women with those characteristics look alike. Unfortunately, though I spent a great deal of time carrying and fetching for her, far beyond what I do for most new arrivals, even the women; She didn't seem to notice me at all. She kept forgetting my name, and accidentally bumping into me. Perhaps romance might not be in my future after all.

# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #

Constance Farmwell's diary. 16 June 1875. I arrived in Navarro Texas early this morning to start my new life. Leaving the east was the best thing for me, since my family's reputation had been utterly destroyed by my father and brother's penchant for episodes of public drunkenness and gambling. After Dad lost the family home in a card game I had no other choice but to seek my life elsewhere. The kindly priest in our neighborhood parish knew of a priest here in town. The priest here, Father Thompson seems to be starting a school, as this tiny little town labors and stretches towards becoming a legitimate city. As my prospects back east were severely limited, this may be a great fit for me.

I or we, the passengers on the stagecoach were met at the station by the most extraordinary man, I've ever seen. He's the Sheriff's deputy and his name is Sam Dansen. The first time he looked at me my heart started Dansen, or dancing really. He is a tall slim good looking man, with eyes the color of steel, and a truly helpful disposition. I did everything I could to keep him around me today long after he was done helping the other passengers. I even pretended to be a little addled just to keep him around me. I wish sometimes that I was a man so I could be more direct, and stop playing these ridiculous games, but that's what society expects of the modern 19th century woman. As he guided me around town I did notice that a dark haired floozy who works in the boarding house didn't take too kindly to me spending time with him. I'll pray for her though, because he isn't married to her and he may soon be to me if I have anything to say about it. I wonder what kind of house we'll build and where. Exactly how much money does a Deputy make?

18 June. I finally moved into a room at the church today. I couldn't stay in that boarding house another second. Everything there seemed to be working against me. From the very first day I had problems with the staff there. Especially that little Mexican woman. When I first got to my room I needed a bath to soothe my back and aching muscles from that awful stagecoach ride. I swear it felt like my entire undercarriage and all of my feminine parts would be shaken loose from all of the bumping and jarring. After the women had brought the tub to my room and filled it with hot water, complaining and whining the whole time mind you, I started to disrobe. Once I stepped into the tub I noticed that for some reason they had filled the tub not with warm water as I'd requested but with nearly ice cold water with suds over it. The water was also somehow not fresh. It smelled as if fish had been cleaned in it. I was so tired that I didn't realize how cold the water was until I'd sat down in it, only to practically leap out of it as my hind quarters and nether regions nearly froze on contact. Unfortunately just as I stood up, my door blew open mysteriously. It was extremely poor timing that a group of gamblers were just passing my room as I stood up stark naked with my door open. They whooped and hollered and ogled me until I covered myself and closed the door. I had to scream downstairs for a basin of fresh water to wash the fish stink off of me. And naturally it took hours for them to bring the fresh water. For the past 2 days everything in that boarding house just went wrong for me. My accommodations here at the church are much more comfortable, and my luck seems to be improving.

19 June. The town faced a terrible tragedy today. The town doesn't really have a real bank yet, so until now all of the money that people want to save was kept in small deposit boxes under their names in the saloon. Construction on a bank and post office, that will also be the telegraph office was started last week. I guess some of the outlaws around here wanted to steal the money before it gets put into a safe. They robbed the saloon. Someone got to the Sheriff and he went over there. There were five armed men against the Sheriff and his Deputy. None of the Outlaws survived. The bad news for the town though, was that the Sheriff was killed by one of the gunmen. From what I understand he was the longest lived Sheriff that anyone can remember. He held the job for just under 10 months. There was a unanimous election less than 10 minutes after the fight ended. Sam was elected the next Sheriff. His first official duty was to bury the old sheriff. I'm afraid for him. As soon as I can get him to realize that he's meant for me, I have to get him to pick a different line of work. He's always reading that Law book and the town could really use a lawyer. Let some other fool be the Sheriff.

Another thing is that after the fight was over, my rival for Sam's affection ran her large hindquarters over to my man and pressed her voluminous bosom all over him. I might be forced to take a more aggressive stance in my pursuit of Sam Dansen. The danger of his current profession and the increasingly obvious attack by the competition, plus the fact that Sam is now the town's Sheriff, would seem to necessitate it. Add that to the fact that everyone looks up to the Sheriff as a man of authority rivaled only by the priest, in a town with no Mayor, and one can begin to see my dilemma. Every unattached woman in town, some of the married ones and even the whores in the bordello are after my man.

# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #

Samuel Dansen's Journal April 4 1876. I guess considering all of the changes in my life over the past 8 or 9 months I really should have written more. But since I became the Sheriff things have been moving so fast I hardly have time to breathe let alone write. I have 3 Deputies now. All of whom are relatives of Maria Chavaria, that pretty little Mexican woman who used to work at the boarding house, and now takes care of the Sheriff's office and jail. No one wanted the job as deputy after the last Sheriff was killed last year, but she somehow managed to convince her cousins that it was a great opportunity. At first the townspeople weren't that set on it either, racial relations being what they are at this point in time, but since they value their safety, and none of them was up to the job, they grudgingly went along with it. Only a few more weeks left until my wedding. Strange to think that only a year after the debacle with Arabella, I'm again engaged to be married. Stranger still that I have absolutely no idea how it came about. I know things move quickly nowadays but damn. I love Constance far more than I did Arabella anyway.

May 15. I thought that my wedding to Constance would be the happiest day of my life. My parents would be proud that at least one of their sons was making something of himself. The town gifted me with a house and a hundred acres of land. Actually the land is pretty good and the former owner died and no one else had laid claim to it. So, I could have taken it anyway, but they decided to give it to me. Not that I see much of it anyway since I have to stay near town most of the time, but Constance can live there and I'll get a few ranch hands in a few months and start trying to raise a few cattle. Then in a few years I'll retire and run the ranch full time. Anyway my wedding day pleasure was far over shadowed by the bedding night. Constance came to bed with me a virgin, but she didn't shed many tears and by morning I was worn out and she'd tried every move in my repertoire of bedroom shenanigans, including a few I'd learned from the whores. Being married to her is never going to be boring, especially not at night. I did receive a letter from Arabella saying she'd changed her mind and wanted me to come back as soon as possible or send for her so she could join me. News of my success had obviously convinced her parents and her, to overlook the fact that my twin brother is a notorious horse-thief and bank robber. Apparently the news of my wedding hadn't reached her yet, and I can't say I didn't smile a bit as I drafted a rather mean spirited reply telling her that her ship had sailed and I was already married. Good riddance to bad rubbish. She broke my heart so she deserved to have me take a chink out of her pride.

July 8. I'm going to be a father. The words still sound strange even to me. I keep thinking I'm going to wake up and find out that it's all been a mistake, but every day Constance gets a little bit bigger and I love her a little bit more.

August 12. I'm extremely glad to be writing this after the events of the last few days. Word had spread throughout the territory that a large gang of outlaws was in the area creating havoc. Until I knew better I ordered everyone in the area to sleep in town at night. And I organized scouting parties to patrol the area and keep a lookout. I needed to know how many men they had and what their intentions were. It would take too long to send for the Texas Rangers if we didn't know when the galoots were coming. Unfortunately they showed up long before we were ready for them. Six of the bastards just rode into town as big as you please and headed straight for the bank. They went in and took all of the money. When I ran into them they were riding through the streets of town. They weren't even trying to escape just galloping through town without a care in the God damned world. The guy in the front was riding one of those big fancy Arabian stallions. That horse was fucking beautiful. I say was because I stepped out of the alley and unloaded my shotgun into it. As it fell it tripped the two men on horseback directly behind it. I then drew my .44 and shot the two men who'd gone down on each side of the guy on the dead horse. Then I leveled my piece at him as he struggled to get up and blew his brains out as well. Served the bastard right. Not only for robbing the bank, but for riding that fancy dam horse. I never would have shot a good honest Mustang like that.

The remaining three gunmen all slowly drew their pieces and took aim at me just as another 10 or 12 of the varmints stormed into town. They were dragging 2 of my 3 Deputies behind them for sport. I thought at that moment looking into the barrels of three guns that my days were numbered. And that I'd never live to see the birth of my child.

"Shooting the lawman wouldn't be in your best interest Bart," said a voice. "Especially since before his body hit the ground, I'd shoot you. I'm thinking you'd best let me and the Sheriff here have a little talk. Meanwhile why don't you take the money back to the bank. I told you we were only coming here for fun, not to work."

If The man called Bart had any reservations they didn't show he immediately put his gun back in his holster, smiled at me and headed back to the bank with his three friends following him. The man who'd spoken to him before got down off of his horse and came over to face me. Even with the bandanna covering the lower half of his face, I recognized it. Especially since it was nearly identical to the face I saw in the mirror every morning. As he pulled the bandanna down and looked at me a smile broke out on my own face as people who were watching through windows or around corners were shocked into showing themselves. Even in these days seeing a pair of identical twins can be somewhat un nerving.

"Sheriff your wife is coming this way," screamed one of the townies.

"Jack help me play a joke," I whispered as we sat down across from each other in the saloon.

I quickly took his black hat and pulled it down over my face while throwing him my White Stetson which he quickly put on. Constance ran into the Saloon, forgetting in the moment that normally she'd never get caught dead in the place. She was very pregnant and still extremely beautiful and every man in the place looked at her with lust. She quickly waddled over to Jack, thinking he was me and kissed him full on the lips. Jack didn't know how to react.

"I just heard, I'm so glad you're alive," she said. "When you get home tonight, I'm going to show you just how glad I am."

"Wouldn't your husband object to that?" I asked out from under Jack's hat which was still covering my face.

"This is my husband," she snapped. Then maybe it was her female intuition or kismet I don't know, but she looked at Jack again. Then she took his hat off and looked closely at his face.

"Who are you?" she asked him. Jack and I both busted out laughing at the same time. I took Jack's hat off and gave it back to him, while Constance just looked back and forth between us. I don't think she enjoyed the joke.

September 6. I really must endeavor to write in this journal more often. Nothing much is going on. The town has gradually gotten used to the idea, that we have a notorious gang seemingly making their home in our small town. The reality of the situation is that after being separated for years I'm enjoying having my brother around. He makes sure that all of his men are on their best behavior while they're inside the town limits, but truth be told there have been several times when having them here has proven to be handy. Two weeks ago for instance we got word of a bunch of cowboys who'd just gotten back from taking their cattle on a long drive up to the railroad yard for sale. They were headed back home and had been hooting and hollering through every town they passed. I'm all for cowboys with their pockets full of money coming into town and spending it, and we all know that working cattle is rough work so they need to unwind a bit after weeks on the trail, but they'd torn up a few small towns and showed no signs of mellowing out. There were 25 or so of them, and there was simply no way that my Deputies and I'd be able to handle them. As usual by the time the Rangers would be able to send a few men to help us out they'd probably be gone.

So again as usual my Deputies and I set out to meet them before they got to the town. The four of us took a position on the path about a half mile out of town and waited. They pulled up when they got to us and asked us what our business was. We explained to them that our small town was a family settlement, and while we'd love to have them visit us, there were certain rules that would apply while in town. I began to outline the rules, which included surrendering all firearms when they entered the town. Their guns would be returned to them when they left. They calmly listened to me and I thought that everything was going fine until one of the biggest of them, said. "What happens if I don't give up my gun? What if I do want to get drunk and run around? What If I chose to fuck every whore in town in the middle of the street? Just what happens, Sheriff? What will you do?" He took a big puff off of a cigar and stared at me then stuck the stogie back in his mouth.

Before he even noticed that I'd moved I drew my gun and shot the cigar out of his mouth, leaving a frayed end very close to his lips. "I didn't get a chance to mention that there's no smoking around any of the children in town either," I said calmly.

"Well maybe you're pretty good with a hog-leg Sheriff," he spat. "I'm not denying that you could probably take me, or any of us. But your problem is that you're seriously out manned. And your Deputies look so nervous that I don't think any one of them is really ready for a gun fight over something so trivial as my boys and me blowing off a little steam. So we might get a little bit keyed up and rearrange your town a little bit. We'll leave you some money on our way out, and all will be well."

"Is all well in Pritchville?" I asked. "That was the town you rode through two days ago. The way I heard it, there were several women who weren't whores, who were raped. There was property stolen or destroyed. There were men jumped on and beaten just for standing up for themselves or their families or their friends. We don't need that kind of visitors, so you either obey my rules or you don't come into town."

"Once again Sheriff," he bellowed. "You don't have nearly enough firepower to stop us from going through your little town and doing whatever the hell we please so...."

Before he could complete his sentence we all turned as we heard the sounds of a group of riders approaching. Jack and his crew rode up right behind us.

"Sorry I'm late, did I miss anything?" asked Jack politely.

"Who the fuck are you?" sputtered the cowboy.

"That's fucking Jack Dansen, I've seen his wanted poster," said one of the cowboys.

"Holy shit it is," said another.

Jack pulled down his mask and rode up to the big cowboy and took one of his cigars out of his pocket. He smiled at the man and asked, "Got a light?" After the man lit his own cigar for Jack to smoke, Jack asked him, "What seems to be the problem?"

"Well I was just telling the Sheriff, that..." began the cowboy.

"You mean, my brother, my twin brother," interrupted Jack.

It's really difficult for a man who is tanned from being out riding in the hot Texas sun for days on end to turn white, but the cowboy's face got at least 2 shades lighter when he heard Jack explain to him who I was. Then he looked at both of our faces and then down at the ground.

"He was just telling me that his twenty-five or so cowpokes had me and my 3 Deputies out numbered." I said.

"Well your deputies are pretty good," began Jack. "They're not as good as you and I, but they're not bad. In case you're wondering cowboy, my brother here, is a very accurate shot with either pistol or rifle. I'm a shade faster, but he's the better shot. So now we have me and my 15 men, plus my brother and his 3. Dammit that only makes 20 against twenty-five. We're still out numbered. But our 20 men are used to fighting their way out of tough spots. We're used to life and death fighting every day. Your men are half drunk and used to pushing cows around. Half of them look like they've never even shot at anything other than a tin can. I think I like those odds." We all heard several of the cowboys take big gulps of air and look at their boss.