Great and Terrible Things

"The Great Rebellion was a horrible war, but it was worth fighting. Slavery is wrong, pure and simple, but it's more than just that. Allowing our great country to split apart was unacceptable to me. The United States has come a long way in the hundred years since we came into existence, but we have so much further to go." She was looking at me in that way again. I did my best to ignore how it made me feel.

"Slavery is now outlawed in our great land. The lasting effects of it will be felt for generations to come, but we're moving in the right direction."

"Women also have the right to vote in both the Wyoming and Utah territories," Abigail offered. "That's a far cry from what I saw growing up in the north, much less in Virginia. One day that will spread to the other territories and states. Maybe not anytime soon, but someday."

"Exactly," I smiled. She understood.

"So then, why leave the army?" Abigail asked again. "Was it the Indian Wars?"

"In part," I admitted. "I have no issue with protecting settlers from savage Indians, but not all Indians are savages and as a nation we differentiate between the tribes less and less. Many of them are just looking for a way to live in peace, but that's not going to happen. The more settlers than come out west the more the Indians are going to fight back or be forced into smaller and smaller reservations."

"As a soldier and an officer, I understood that, but some days it was harder to face than others. In the end, I think I left because war is for young men. You reach and certain age and you want your fights to be more black and white."

"Or maybe it's just that you see the greys better." Abigail wasn't wrong. In fact, she might have been more right than I cared to admit.

"If a man needs killing, I'll do it, no regrets, but I grew tired of leading good men to their deaths against men who weren't all that different except for their skin color and a different way of life." The silence that followed was only a pregnant pause.

"Sounds like you left at the right time." Abigail's agreement with my decision wasn't necessary, but it did make me feel oddly better. "The only problem being, doing so has made you feel a little lost."

"More than a little," I laughed, self depreciatingly. "Some days, I feel like a fish out of water." We finally reached the Mr. Tillman. He was a wiry old man who reminded me of William except for his bald head. Abigail smiled at me warmly.

"You'll figure it out eventually." I wished I had half the confidence that she did on the issue. I was sorely tempted to ask her why she thought so, but now wasn't the time so I nodded, more in thanks than agreement.

We didn't spend long at Mr. Tillman's place. Just long enough for me to see what he had to offer. He didn't have any cavalry trained, but a couple of the horses were impressive. He'd just brought them in the day before. Of course, none of them were up to Domino's standard. That didn't stop the old guy from going for the hard sell despite Abigail's presence. He obviously didn't like her and didn't do much to hide it. I was hoping it was because she was competition, but I wouldn't bet on it.

"Not a particularly pleasant person is he," I said once we were able to get away from him.

"No, not particularly," she agreed, but then left it at that. I could have pressed, but I got the feeling nothing productive would come out of it. Mr. Tillman was an old man from a different time. An unmarried woman with a child branded Abigail a certain type of woman in his mind and that was that.

"I say we go to that hotel café and get some food." I decided the best bet was to change the subject. "I'm sure everyone else is waiting there for us by now."

"I am a might peckish, as Uncle William would say." She was smiling again, which made me feel better.

We didn't talk about anything serious as we made our way to the hotel. In fact, we didn't say much for a large part of the journey, but it was an enjoyable silence. I loved the fact that Abigail didn't have an incessant need to fill the silences fir inane chatter. Yet another one of my ex-wife's habits I could do without.

We saw a couple coming out of the hotel in a hurry just as we arrived. They were in such a rush that they barely glanced our way as they slipped past, but I saw the wife's eyes grow big at the last second when she saw Abigail with me. She tried to say something, but her husband dragged her away from the hotel before she could.

Something was obviously wrong, so I moved in front of the strawberry blond as we stepped up onto the wooden porch and between the pillars on either side of the hotel's entrance. I led the way inside, but Abigail was right behind me.

I can't say that what I found there didn't shock me, but I'd learned to deal with these kinds of surprises a long time ago. I didn't make a conscious decision to draw my Peacemaker. I'd simply done it, thankful that I'd walked in first.

There were four of them. One held Clementine, one hand over her mouth and the other around her shoulders and neck. She was fighting against him, but he was a big guy and had little trouble holding on to her. Another easily held Billy off the ground. The boy's mouth was covered as well to stop him from crying out. The third was leaning over Miles' prone form, pummeling him.

The final man had two pistols drawn, keeping the few other hotel patrons back while laughing, if not quite maniacally, certainly with great cruelty.

"That's enough." I didn't yell, but I'd use my command voice which had been honed over many years of service. It drew the attention of the two holding Clementine and Billy as well as the young man with the guns. The forth and youngest one continued to punch Miles. He seemed about the same age and Clementine and Miles.

"Stay out of this!" the gun toting twenty-something snapped, annoyed that his fun being interrupted. "This is none of your business." I noticed that he had one of those fancy cartridge belts around his waist along with along with holsters for both guns.

"Son, I'm afraid it is." I met his eyes, letting him know I was serious. I didn't like what I saw there. There was something twister in this young man that I'd seen before.

The army was filled with men good at killing. Most, like myself didn't mind doing it if the person was deserving. There were also some that liked it, but were careful to follow a code. And finally, there was a small third group who loved killing for killing sake. All three types were dangerous, but the third was unpredictable, which to military man was bad news. I took great pains in my career to weed out that kind of man from serving under me.

You see, although some of them could control themselves most of the time, eventually they slipped up and some innocent or even not so innocent paid the ultimate price. It wasn't always the enemy. Hell, it wasn't necessarily a civilian either. A lot of times it was men in their own unit, which to my mind was the worst of the three. I know that sounds cold, but a soldier has to rely on his brother-in-arms and if he can't do that, then his ability to protect the innocent and fight the enemy is deeply marred.

The young man in front of me was definitely in that category. Some hid it well. Him, not so much.

"I'm not your son!" he nearly growled. I was sorely tempted to shoot, but there were a lot of innocents in the hotel lobby that might get hurt in the cross fire. The two that mattered most to me were Clementine and Billy. Thankfully, Abigail was behind me, or at least she had been when we walked in. I should have known better.

The strawberry blond came around from my left making sure not to get into the way of my aim. That only made her appearance marginally better. Now the monster in front of me had another target I cared about.

There was a moment when I saw the fear in Abigail's eyes at what she was seeing, but it instantly disappeared, replaced with something far more useful in this situation. Anger, the controlled type.

"Alby Murphy, put those guns away!" she snapped coldly before dismissing the young man and turning toward the teenager laying into Miles. "And Thomas, stop that this instance!" The boy was too far gone in what looked like a drunken rage. Abigail clearly didn't like being ignored. She moved quickly and shoved Thomas off of Miles. That's when Clementine bit the hand of the young man holding her.

"You've killed him! You've killed Miles!" she cried, not helping the situation any. First off, although Miles was unconscious, I could see that he was still breathing. Secondly, Alby's eyes lit up at the thought of her words being true.

The sickness inside that boy close to the surface, far closer than most I'd seen. One day soon, he was going to lose it. That much was obvious. I was just hoping it wasn't going to happen right now.

"He's alive," I said calmly. I saw the glint of relief in Thomas's eyes as sanity returned to his drunken expression. More important, he stayed down. None of that stopped me from noticing the disappointment from Alby.

"Jeremy Higgens, you let Clementine go! What would your mother think?" The giant sized young man was clearly drunk and embarrassed. I think he released the blond without really thinking about it. Clementine turned, slapped his face hard once and then quickly went to Miles. I was surprised the big man took it.

"And you Luther Miller, put my son down now." If anything, her voice had grown colder. The young man holding Billy had on an arrogant smile, thinking he had the upper hand. He should have known better. I'd only met Abigail the night before, but I was certain that there was no way she was letting him use her son as a hostage.

"Fuck off, you ugly, scar-faced bitch!"

"Such language, Luther," Abigail tone softened, confusing the young man as she moved closer to him and her son. "And in front of women and children, for shame."

"I don't give a damn about..."

The young man was mean and clearly stupid. A part of me wanted to show him the error of his ways, but I needed to keep my attention on Alby. The only thing keeping the gun wielding Murphy boy from shooting was my Peacemaker pointed at his heart, and honestly, I wasn't sure that was going to hold him in check for long.

"Luther, Luther, Luther," Abigail interjected, sounding disappointed as she shook her head. The young man opened his mouth to spew something else unkind. He should have been more focused on what Abigail was doing, but then again, he was young, stupid and too inexperienced to recognize the threat staring him in the eyes.

"Luther..." Alby began, clearly more knowledgeable in dealing with dangerous people, but it was too late by that point. Abigail put Luther down with one well-placed killed right between his legs. I doubt she'd have been able to do it if she were wearing a skirt or if he hadn't stupidly let her get so close.

Abigail caught Billy before he could hit the ground. She hugged the boy briefly, but with a fierceness that only a mother could have before placing him on the ground telling him to go into the cafe and out of harm's way. She used a tone that brooked no argument. Billy paused for a moment, but then did as his mother demanded. I saw Alby follow the boy's progress with one of the pistol. The other was pointed at me.

"You do, and I'll blow a hole in your chest big enough to see through." It wasn't an idle threat. I didn't make those, but I wasn't sure it would work. Thankfully, Alby became distracted by what was happening between Abigail and the man she'd just kicked.

Neither had remained stationary as Billy escaped. Abigail was too smart to think her kick would keep Luther down for long despite where she'd struck. The young man was already back on his knees and reaching for her despite his obvious pain. Maybe she'd hadn't caught him as square as I thought.

Even I was a bit taken back by the way Abigail smiled as she cut Luther's grasping hand with a knife I didn't see until she used it. It wasn't a bad cut, but between it and her expression, Luther hesitated. I guess because even stupid had its limits.

"I thought since you like my scar so much, you'd like to see what caused it," Abigail hissed in barely controlled anger, never losing her twisted smile. "I took this knife from the man who gave me this." She gestured toward her face. "And stuck him like the pig he was. You sort of remind me of him. Make one move, and as the Lord is my witness, you'll get to feel exactly the same way he did as I watched the life drain from his eyes."

Luther remained motionless. I'm sure it was a combination of being kicked, the cut to his hand and the fact that Abigail looked like she really wanted to stick him with her knife, but the question was how long would he stay that way? I didn't want to find out.

"So, Alby, what's it going to be?" I was betting I'd have to kill the young man to end this, but I figured to give him once last chance. The situation had changed considerably in the last few seconds. Maybe that would make him see reason, but the problem with men like him was that once they smelled blood it was man near impossible to change the outcome.

I heard the cocking of a rifle coming from the direction of the café and swallowed with some difficulty. I didn't let the relief show when a gravelly old voice called out from that direction.

"Alby, this here Spenser Rifle and I are both on the old side, but neither one of us will miss from this distance." William's no-nonsense tone didn't seem to get through to the young man any more than mine had. One of Alby's guns was now pointed at me and the other at William. The damned fool looked like he was still contemplating taking his chances. That's when I heard the level of yet another rifle.

This one came from the direction of the hotel's small font desk. I looked and saw a dark haired, middle-aged man in of all things, a suit standing there. He had a full beard that was more red than brown. It was neatly trimmed and well maintained, just like everything else about this man. Thankfully, his rifle wasn't pointed at me.

"Alby Murphy, you've had your fun. Holster your guns, grab you boys and head on out. This is my establishment and I can't have you threatening the clientele."

"Are you sure about what you're doing Monty?" The threat in Ably voice was clear as day. "My uncle won't like it and he is your partner."

"I'm Mr. Townsend to you, young man, and I plan on speaking to him about this as soon as he's back in town," the man replied in a clipped accent. He was definitely a more recent transplant from back east. "I came out here because he guaranteed me that Twist River was in need of a hotel. That won't be the case if people start ended up dead here."

I doubt it was the man's logic that finally get through to Alby. More likely it was the three guns pointed in his direction.

"You're lucky I was here with my cousin and not my own men." Alby finally holstering his Scofields. He was grinning, but I could sense the barely controlled rage burning inside that boy, fighting to get out. A part of me knew that he needed to be put down and put down hard before he did something horrible, but now wasn't the time or place.

"We both are," I said, drawing his attention back to me. I was dead serious and he knew it.

Alby Murphy was the type who not only liked death, but the power the threat of it gave him over people. He was also from a rich and influential family which meant he was used to getting his way. He'd probably never faced any real repercussions of his actions. Bottom line, he wasn't used to someone standing up to him and he didn't like it. No, he didn't like it one little bit.

"Stranger, you made a mistake today, butting yourself into my business." He was watching me. I guess he was expecting some sort of reaction. The fact that I gave him none only made him angrier. I just stood there waiting, gun still drawn and pointed in his direction. His expression turned dark as he looked at Mr. Townsend and added, "You too Monty. This isn't over."

I didn't like the sound of that, mostly because I saw the burning hatred his eyes that went along with it. I knew what that meant. Alby wasn't making an idle threat. He meant what he said and he was definitely the type to hold a grudge. Frankly, I expect for a man like him when facing someone not afraid of him or his family name.

"You'd better hope it is because if we meet with guns drawn again, you won't survive it." It was more of a promise than a threat, but the young man was too full of himself to see that. He turned and left the hotel, not even bothering to see how his cousin was doing.

Jeremy, the big man who'd been holding Clementine was now helping Thomas to his feet. I hadn't bothered putting my Peacemaker away. I'd simply shifted my aim to good old Luther. Abigail saw and frowned for a moment, looking almost disappointed.

"You're lucky Billy is okay." She stepped back with more than a touch of reluctance.

Truth be told, I sort of hoped he'd do something stupid. I didn't like the way he treated Billy any more than Abigail did and I sure as hell didn't like what he said to her. Unfortunately, he took one look at my expression as I continued to hold my Peacemaker on him and stumbled out after Alby. Jeremy helped Thomas and they soon followed the others out the door. I was finally able to holster my six-shooter.

Billy came running back into the room followed by his William and most of the guests staying at the hotel. They'd all seen what happened.

"Shouldn't we report this to the marshal?" It seemed like an obvious action, but no one seemed to have thought of it.

"As long as Miles is alive, there's no point," William said as he joined us. "The man is bought and paid for by Murphy. If you want any real justice you have to wait until the county Sheriff makes his rounds. Happens about once every month or two.

"But I will be speaking to Mr. Murphy and soon," Mr. Townsend added in annoyance. I had to give the guy credit. He looked more annoyed than afraid. "This has got to stop."

"Be careful of Alby until you do," I warned, figuring he might not understand what just happened. "And probably afterward too. Alby's threat was anything but idle. That young man will hold a grudge to death and beyond, and he loves hurting people. It was obvious in his expression as he watched Thomas beating on Miles." The man frowned at me, but then nodded. I only hoped my warning would help.

"Speaking of Miles, how is the boy?" William was obviously changing the subject and I understood why. We were in mixed company after all. Still, I didn't regret giving the warning.

"Hurt," Clementine replied, her worry obvious. She was still on the ground next to him. "He broke a few ribs and God knows what else."

"I'm fine," the young man groaned. I was happy to see he was conscious again. He looked at me and frowned guiltily, despite his obvious pain. "I'm sorry. I wasn't very good at keeping her out of trouble."

"That wasn't your fault, or even mine for that matter," Clementine interjected. "They were all drunk and Alby convinced Thomas that you were stealing his girl. As if I'd ever be Thomas Murphy girlfriend!"

"Let me go find some of the staff to help clean all this up," Mr. Townsend said, looking around at the ness Alby and his friends made. "I think I'll also drop by some of the homes of the town council. This type of situation has got to be dealt with. Feel free to ask my staff if you need anything." I nodded in thanks and then turned back to the group as he left.

Billy was once again in his mother's arms. The concern in Abigail's expression was real as she gave her son a full once over. In some ways it was almost impossible to reconcile the woman in front of me with the one who kicked Luther, cut him with a knife and looked ready to do a lot worse. In others, not so much. I noticed that the knife was gone again.