Cheaters in the West

I was clearly the last one to arrive. Samantha looked up sadly as I came into the room. I wanted to go and sit by her and find out what was wrong with her, but I was intercepted by Ms. Peyton who grabbed my arm, looked into my eyes and said, "Last night was wonderful," as she led me to a chair. I did notice that she sat down between Samantha and me.

"Hm, where did we leave off? asked Atherton. "Ah yes, I bookmarked my place." Then he began to read as we settled into our chairs.

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Sam Dansen's Journal. May 4. Something funny is going on but I don't know what. A saddle bum who'd been in town for about a week refused to give up his gun. Even worse than that he challenged me in front of everybody in the damned Saloon to a gunfight. I couldn't let the man keep his guns, and I couldn't back down from a public challenge because that would undermine my authority in the town. I'd had to fight unruly characters before, but this guy really pissed me off. It wasn't just his attitude it was the things he said. One of which confused me and gave me an itch at the back of my neck at the same time.

"Why do I have to listen to you when you can't even make your own wife keep her legs closed?" he asked.

There were a few men in the back of the saloon stifling laughs, but that was all brushed aside when we headed out to the streets. Normally I tried my best to wing or wound my opponent when it was necessary to have these things, but this time I was pissed. I'm not as fast as my brother but I'm faster than most, and very accurate. He went for his gun first, but he didn't have a prayer. Before he even touched his grip, I had drawn my .44 and drilled him through his left eye. If they buried him with an eye patch, he'd look like he was only sleeping. The bullet passed dead through the center of his eye, and didn't mark his face at all. Of course the back of his head was a different story. There was a hole big enough to put your fist through. I literally blew his brains out. Several of the people nearby were covered in gray matter and blood after the fight.

Some of the people who'd laughed before in the saloon looked down and had trouble meeting my eyes. I could tell that something was going on but I didn't know what.

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Constance Dansen's diary.

May 6. My life is truly over. Today something terrible happened to me. Instead of taking me one at a time, the men all came in at the same time. I heard them say that they just wanted to get some and get out. For some reason none of them wanted to risk being anywhere near here when Sam came home. So there was one man fucking me in my vagina, while another stuck his manhood in my mouth and just used me that way. Then yet another inserted his member into my back hole, and it hurt really badly. None of them seemed concerned about my pleasure in the least. I was just another whore. As they humped on me, each intent only on their own pleasure another man started lowering his pants, I didn't even have another hole for him to use so I wondered what he thought he was doing. I tried to find something pleasurable in their actions. But all I felt was pain, and disgust with myself. The man in my mouth let out a yell and shot his baby juice all over my face. The next guy just marched over and stuck his dick in my mouth before the other one had even finished shooting and spasming. I just wanted to die at that moment, and I nearly did. I heard the door open, and it got cold in that room, but not from a breeze. It was the chill they say you feel when you're close to death.

It all seemed to happen in slow motion. The door opened and Jack was in the room. He looked at me and then at the men. Then before any of them could even realize what was going on, Jack shot all five of them. Pow, Pow, Pow, Pow, Pow. Five shots in less than 3 seconds. Somehow none of the bullets hit me. When he started shooting I had closed my eyes as death whistled all around me. When I opened them I was staring down the barrel of Jack's gun, and the look in his eye's told me that he wasn't necessarily finished, he had only paused.

"Go ahead, do it," I said. Then I started crying uncontrollably. The sounds of Jack's shots had brought a couple of his men running. Jack calmly reloaded his gun so it would be ready the next time he needed it, and looked at me. I was no longer beautiful. I was covered in a mixture of semen, sweat, blood brains and just funk, from all of the men who'd died around me.

"Get the fuck out of here," Jack said to the men who'd come into the room. "Wait," he told one of them. "Go get Juan Chavaria, that fat deputy who works for my brother. Get him here as fast as you can," then he slammed the door.

"You stupid whore," he said to me. "You're destroying my brother, and I won't let you. Four people have died in town since yesterday, because of you. These five make nine, you aren't worth another death."

"What are you talking about Jack?" I asked him. I hadn't heard anything about it. Sam didn't talk about his work much. He had been kind of quiet last night. He didn't even want to have sex with me and I needed him. After being fucked and abused all day, I needed to feel loved and appreciated. Sam had a funny look in his eye like there was something he wanted to ask me, but he wasn't sure he'd want the answer. So we both just let it be.

"Yesterday, some galoot, challenged Sam to a gunfight in the middle of town. It ain't like my brother to kill anyone, that's the difference between him and me. He just don't have the stomach for killing. He killed this guy though because he was all fired up about the guy saying something about you," said Jack. He looked at me again.

"Today was worse, another guy you fucked challenged Sam too, but this one was a snake. Sam drilled him through the forehead, but the guy's buddy was behind Sam and tried to shoot my brother in the back with a fucking shotgun. Sam heard him and started to turn but he was just too late and the guy got the shot off," said Jack.

I felt like my world had ended, my husband, the only man I had ever loved was dead and it was all my fault. Suddenly I didn't have the strength to stand any more. I hadn't told anyone but I thought that I was with child again, and the chances that it was Sam's weren't very good. Now my husband was dead as well. I vomited all over myself adding one more fluid to the sperm, piss, blood and brains that covered me. "My Sam is dead I wailed, just shoot me now."

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Back in Atherton's office, I leapt to my feet. "Buuuuulllshiiiiiitttt!" I yelled so loudly that Atherton's sourpuss secretary stuck her head in the door, giving me the evil eye.

"My Great Great Granddad, didn't die like that," I snapped. "He died in bed when he was like 75."

Samantha looked at me with that same bemused look she'd had when she caught me staring at her tits the first time. I looked back and smiled. It was worth making a fool out of myself to see her smile. Her smile quickly vanished when Ms. Peyton stroked my arm to calm me down. I couldn't figure out why this woman was trying to give the outward impression that there was something going on between us. I snatched my arm out her grasp like she had syphilis and sat back down. Samantha was amused by that.

"May I continue?" asked Atherton.

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Sam Dansen's Journal

May 6. As I sit here alone tonight, my heart is breaking. I find myself wondering where I went wrong. Why did God forsake me? Today was the worst day of my life. A truly innocent soul was lost tonight and God help me, I still don't know truly why any of this has happened.I was trying so hard to think good things this morning and put the things that happened yesterday behind me. I still have the feeling that there are things that Constance and I must discuss, but she's so beautiful and I love her so much that I hate to bring her sadness or misery in any way. So I kissed her goodbye this morning like always and she seemed to want me to stay home, but this is normal because she always begs me not to leave, so I paid it no mind. If I had known that it might be the last time I saw her face or kissed those lips, I'd never have gone.

I rode into town the same as I do every other day, but as much as I tried to be cheerful, there was a sense of foreboding over everything. It was as if the unpleasantness of the day before was only a warning. Many of the men in town would not meet my eyes, and others looked as if they were spoiling for a fight. Only Maria, the beautiful young Mexican woman who organizes the Sheriff's office for us had a cheerful word for me. Maria is something else. Had I not met Constance, I'd surely have married her by now. She will make some man very lucky someday. My deputies who are her kin often joke that I'm the luckiest man in the world to have one wife at home and another at work. Maria does seem to fuss over me a lot, but I'm sure she's just grateful for the job and being friendly.

Just after noon I went over to the saloon for a glass of beer and lunch. Of course there were the usual card-players, drunkards, and ne'er-do-wells assembled there but the atmosphere was again just off somehow.

Of course there was all kinds of talk about my gunfight the day before. Some of the men there claiming that it was a lucky shot, and that I'd never be able to duplicate it in a million years. Others saying they had seen me shoot before and I could hit anything I could see. Then the group that thought it was luck would come right back with the fact that I hadn't hit him right between the eyes. They thought that I had aimed between the eyes and missed by a couple of inches.

I hated that kind of talk and actually I still felt bad about what had happened. I could easily have just wounded the man or just shot him in the hand and disarmed him. But I let my anger get the best of me because he'd insulted me through Constance, and a man died for it. I felt no pride at my victory, only shame at my weakness of spirit and decided to leave and avoid hearing the talk about it any further. But of course it was not to be.

Just as I left the saloon, a big guy from the next town over pushed me angrily.

"Are you trying to start a fight mister?" I asked him.

"From what I hear you're the one starting the fights around here," he said. "You murdered my brother in cold blood yesterday because you were jealous about him fucking your whore of a wife. If every man who gets between that bitch's legs dies, there won't be very many men left in Texas."

"I don't know what you're talking about. Your brother challenged me to the fight. I even let him go for his gun first. And Constance hardly ever comes to town," I said sharply.

"You let him go after his gun first because you and your horse-thieving, train robbing brother are both professional gunslingers and he was just another cowpoke. He didn't have a chance against you. And as far as your whore goes, from what I understand she don't have to come to town, she's not even selling it, she's just giving that pussy away at your ranch. From what I hear she's taking on more than one man at a time now. I can't wait Ta..." he never got a chance to finish because at that point my fist connected solidly with his jaw sending him sprawling in the street. I was angrier than I'd ever been.

"Let's see if you're any better than your brother," I snapped

"It's about time. I was beginning to think you're as cowardly as your brother. Doesn't he usually shoot men in the back? Or maybe you're as big and soft as your wife's pussy," he smiled as he said that. Again there were a lot of snickers and outright laughs coming from the people gathered to watch us. As angered as I was, all of my recriminations and sorrow about yesterday were gone. I was ready to kill yet another man over Constance's virtue.

Again we lined up in the street, and it seemed like the whole town plus some, was assembled to watch. I looked at my opponent and was puzzled as he seemed to be looking not at me but at something behind me. I wasn't going to fall for that old trick though. I would turn around to see who was behind me and he'd go for his gun and plug me while I was looking at nothing. I kept my eyes firmly planted on his, watching for any twitch that would let me know when he was ready to move. If he didn't move soon I was going to kill him anyway, just so this could be over and I could find out what was going on with Constance. There was no way she could be doing what he'd said. She was at home taking care of our infant son.

He blinked, and as if on automatic my hand moved for my gun before my brain even realized he was moving. Like his brother he was slow and before his hand even reached his weapon, my Schofield .44 spat another fat bullet in his direction. This time just to shut up the Negative Nellies I drilled one right between his eyes. Even before he hit the ground though, I heard a sound at my back. I instinctively knew right away it was a shot gun's hammer being pulled back. He hadn't been staring at a ghost after all, and I knew that I was going to be too late. I was going to die. But even as I heard the shotgun's deadly roar, something small slammed into me intercepting nearly all of the blast. I did get stung by a pellet or two but I was untouched otherwise. Jack blew the face off of the coward with the shotgun and just emptied his gun in the body and then snatched another gun from one of his men and emptied it as well. He was looking for another gun so I handed him mine as I sat there in the dirt cradling Maria's small body as she struggled to breathe.

With tears in my eyes I just begged her to tell me why she would do something so stupid, no job could be worth what she did.

"Love you," she said. "From first day you came to town. Long before that gussied up witch you married I always l..." then she died smiling, as if saving me really made her happy. I don't know how long I sat there holding her and crying my eyes out in the street. I do know that some of Jack's men and my deputies stood around me to keep riders from trampling me. Finally the preacher and the undertaker came and got me to let go of her. Juan, one of my deputies was related to Maria, and he told me that she had left a son, and that he and his wife would take him in. I told him that he and his wife already had enough kids to worry about, I'd take him in and raise him as my own, but he could visit him anytime he wanted.

One of the men in town had something to say about it very briefly.

"But he's a Mexican, that ain't right for..." he began.

Before he could finish his stupid statement, I shot him. And I didn't regret it to my dying day. I regret shooting the man yesterday. I regret shooting his brother today, in both of those cases I clearly could have and should have been more merciful. But shooting that racist asshole after the sacrifice Maria made for me, has never caused me to lose even a second's worth of sleep.

"There are no Mexicans in this town," I said. "No Whites, No Blacks, No Chinese, there are only people. From now on we're all the same. Do I hear any arguments?" Maybe they could see the state I was in, or sympathized with me over what I'd just been through but no one said a word. I looked around and my brother was gone. I didn't know where he'd gone, but I had to go to see the undertaker and make arrangements for Maria's funeral. Juan was there with me for a short time, but he was called away. I arranged for everything the flowers, her casket and even the clothing she'd be buried in. The preacher looked like he wanted to object to having Maria's funeral on Sunday during the church services, but I noticed that he changed his mind and agreed when my hand accidentally slid down near the gun in my holster.

After that it was getting dark so I rode home. I needed to talk to Constance, and this time we'd have words no matter how painful it was. That led to an even bigger shock. When I opened the door to my ranch house and found Juan's wife Carmen, caring for my son. There was another small boy, who was perhaps 4 years old there as well. I immediately recognized Maria's eyes, and knew who he was.

Carmen didn't speak much English, but she handed me a sheet of writing paper that was torn from the diary that Constance always wrote in.

"Dearest Sam,

There's simply no easy way to say this. I have betrayed your trust, and am not a fit wife or mother. I love you more than life itself, but after our baby was born, It triggered all kinds of unnatural urges in me, that I could not control. By the time I was able to become myself again I had become a monster. I'm going away to a convent to try and make myself worthy of you again. I release you from our marriage vows since it is I who have made a mockery of them. Please find someone else worthy of your love. You need someone to fill your life and our son cannot grow up without a mother. Please try not to think too badly of me because I never stopped loving you, and I'll love you until my dying day. I wasn't evil, only weak. Perhaps the austere atmosphere, and servitude found in a convent will purify my, body, my mind, and my soul.

Your loving wife Constance."

I dropped the paper and started crying again. I cried for the two men I had killed because they had the nerve to say things that turned out to be true. I cried for the man that Jack had killed because he too died for Constance's betrayal. I cried for two little boys who would grow up without mothers. But more than anything else I cried for Maria.

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Constance Dansen's Diary.

June 16. I woke up this morning chained to a bed. Today was the first time I remember my head being clear since Jack made me write that letter to Sam about going to a convent. I have to admit I didn't like the idea of being away from Sam and my baby. My idea was for Sam, and me to pack up the baby and move to another town, far away for a fresh start. Now that I have my urges under control, I'm all better. I will never want to have sex with any man other then my husband ever. I'm completely cured, but Jack being the concerned brother that he obviously is wants to be sure. I don't even know which convent I've been sent to. They kept me asleep by putting sleeping drops in my food for the entire journey here. At least it wasn't as bad as that awful stagecoach.

June 17. I am in hell paying for my sins. I am not in a convent. They don't chain you to the bed in a convent. This is Jack's idea of revenge against me for the pain I caused Sam. He sold me to a whorehouse in Mexico. The men here really like my blond hair and blue eyes. I was forced to service at least 20 of them yesterday. They came one after another until I just lost consciousness. The madam here says I have to service her customers until she recoups her investment in me, and then I'll be free to leave. This is far worse a fate than I ever imagined. I had it all, and I just let lust take it all away from me.

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Atherton stopped reading at that point, and just looked at us. "I suppose you're all wondering what happened after that," he said. "It really is a fascinating untold saga of American history. Samuel went on to become the town's mayor. His brother Jack became Sheriff after him. Constance contracted Syphilis and died in the whorehouse and never saw Sam or her child again. Jack never told Sam where Constance really ended up, only that she had passed, when it happened."

"Okay let's talk business," said Ms. Peyton vigorously stroking my arm.

"Okay let's not," I snapped, turning to Samantha. "I'd like to hear what your idea was."

Samantha was obviously uneasy. She licked those soft generous lips and looked at me. As you've probably figured out Maria, was my ancestor and the Dansens were yours. Miss Peyton Claims to be related to Constance's Family. That small town they're from was renamed about 50 years ago. It's called Dansen Texas now. They've recently completed construction on a small museum, and I was going to donate the diaries to that museum. Like Mr. Atherton said, our family history is an untold saga of American history that should really be known and loved by all of the people, not just sold to one rich person to hide away in his attic. But before you got here Mr. Atherton and Ms. Peyton explained to me the amount of money you could get for the entire collection. The diaries are valuable by themselves, but the guns are the real collector's items. I told Mr. Atherton and Ms. Peyton what I wanted to do with them already. It was really nice meeting you, a dream in fact, and I really do know how she felt." Samantha stood up and walked out of the office, leaving me puzzled.