A Reluctant Gunfighter - Cover

A Reluctant Gunfighter

Copyright© 2008 by aubie56

Chapter 9

Western Sex Story: Chapter 9 - Jeremiah Bartholomew, a 13 year old kid from NYC, winds up in show business in Texas in 1870, billed as the best pistol shot in all of Texas. He may be, because he's already killed 2 men with his gun. Join him and his friends, Jake, the snake oil salesman, and Sally, the exotic dancer, as they roam about Texas trying to make an honest dollar.

Caution: This Western Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/Fa   Teenagers   Consensual   Romantic   Historical   Humor   First   Violence  

As much as I wanted to stall forever, I finally had to pick up the blanket or look pretty damned foolish. Barbara was beautiful, she had the most beautiful body that I had ever seen. Now, I will admit that I had not seen all that many naked women, but Barbara looked to me like the most beautiful body in the world. I couldn't get tired of saying to myself how beautiful she was. I hoped and prayed that I would never forget how she looked, standing there as the epitome of nude beauty.

I know that it was odd for a 17-year-old boy to think like that, but I didn't care if I never saw another naked woman. I sincerely believed that if I went blind at that moment, I would not miss anything—I had already seen it all!

I don't know how much longer I would had stood there staring at Barbara, but she brought me to my senses by saying, "Jeremiah, ya are embarrassin' me the way ya are starin'. Please give me the blanket and check ta see ifen my clothes are dry enough, yet."

"I'm sorry to embarrass you, Barbara, but I have never seen anything more beautiful! You have simply taken my breath and good sense away. Here is the blanket, and I'll go check on your clothes." I handed her the blanket as she released my shoulder and put her foot gently on the ground. Her clothes were dry enough to put on; the air was hot and dry enough to pull the moisture right out of her wet clothes, so I brought them to her. I handed her the shirt and turned my back.

She said, "I guess that you have seen so much, you might as well look now. Please hold my trousers while I get the shirt on ... OK, I'll take the pants now, you can turn them loose."

"Uh, sorry. The sight of you has just addled my brains. Please forgive me."

"Oh, Jeremiah, ya are the sweetest man I know! I love ya, ya know?"

"Good Lord! Do you mean that!?! I just realized how much I love you." When I said that, she dropped her pants and grabbed me around the neck for the most soul searing kiss that I could have ever received! Automatically, I took her in my arms and returned her kiss from the depths of my very being. I don't know how much longer we would have remained like that, but here was the sound of rapid hoof beats approaching so I helped her get her trousers on before the rider arrived.

We were standing close together when Tony came riding up. "Barbara, Jeremiah, y'all gotta come quick! Pa's been shot! I think he's gonna die!" We jerked our shoes and socks on and mounted our horses; the picnic stuff could wait. We rode as fast as we could back to the ranch house.

When we got to the house, we found Elias lying on the veranda floor, quite dead. He had been shot in the head, and there was nothing that could have been done to save him. We were all in tears as I carried him to his room and laid him on the bed. Tony, between his sobbed tears, said, "I wuz workin' in the barn when I heard a gunshot come from the front of the house. I heard a horse gallop off as I came runnin' up. I never saw who did the shootin'."

Elias was not wearing his gun, though I had warned him to keep it with him at all times. Whoever had shot him had performed an execution! Well, there was nothing that I could do to reverse this killing, but I was going after the man who ordered it, and I was going this afternoon. There was still enough daylight for me to ride to the Double Bar B and extract revenge.

I told Tony to saddle me a fresh horse. I went into my bedroom and picked up three of the salvaged .44-40 pistols, made sure they were loaded with five rounds in each, and stuck them in my waistband. Tony was experienced with the job, so he had me a horse ready by the time I had collected the pistols. I told him to stay in the house with his sister until I got back. He should lock the doors and windows (which were barred) and load all of the guns left in the house. I said, "Tony, I hate to stick you with this job, but you must protect your sister until I get back. I'm going to the Double Bar B to settle this now. I should be back a little after dark."

I gave him no time to argue with me, but dashed off at a gallop. I barely heard Barbara shout as I rode off, "NO, JEREMIAH! YA'LL BE KILLED!" It wrenched my heart to hear that, but I was so full of anger and hate that nothing could have stopped me, short of a bullet.

It took me 40-45 minutes to get to the Double Bar B ranch house, and I skidded my horse to a stop and didn't bother to hitch him as I ran up on the front veranda. I didn't try the doorknob, but kicked it in with the flat of my boot. Fortunately, my anger was fading, but not my hate, so I was less likely to do something stupid and get myself killed before I found Jason Hawthorn, the owner of the Double Bar B.

I stormed into the house, shouting Hawthorn's name. I heard a noise in an adjacent room, so I headed for it. The door was closed, but not locked. I threw it open, only to be met by the sound of a pistol shot. I guess that he had shot were he expected me to be, rather than waiting until he actually saw me, because the bullet missed my head and buried itself into the door. I had thrown the door open, but I had not stepped into the room—that was what saved my life.

I was holding a cocked .44-40 pistol in my right hand and another in my left. It was the pause to draw the second pistol which had caused me to hesitate before entering the room. I saw a man sitting behind a desk and pointing a smoking gun at my face. The only reason I can figure the damned fool didn't shoot again was that he was frozen with fear.

I stepped into the room and took measured shots to make sure that I didn't miss. I emptied the gun in my left hand into his upper chest, I didn't want to kill him yet, I wanted him to hurt for a moment. The look on his face told me how much pain he felt. I stepped a little to one side so that I wasn't outlined in the doorway, and waited for him to die. It couldn't be for much longer. I waited until his eyes started to glaze over, then I put a bullet between them. There was a small hole punched into his forehead between his eyes, but a massive hole was punched in the back of his head as his brain came flying out in little pieces.

I reloaded the gun in my right hand and put it back in its holster. I then reloaded the Colt, which took considerably longer. I shifted that gun to my right hand and went to the window to look out. I could see the bunkhouse and the stable through the window. There was a lot of running about between the two places as five men loaded up their horses.

I refitted myself with two guns and used one of them to break the window. I shouted, but was ignored, so I put a bullet into an alarm gong handing over the stable door. This got their attention! I shouted, "I DON'T WANT TO FIGHT YOU GALOOTS, BUT I WILL IF YOU FORCE ME! I JUST KILLED OLD MAN HAWTHORN, AND THAT SETTLES IT AS FAR AS I AM CONCERNED! DO ANY OF YOU FEEL ANY DIFFERENT?"

There were many shouts of NO, so I assumed that the gunplay was finished for now. So I shouted, "JUST SO I KNOW THE TRUTH, DID HAWTHORN ORDER THE WATERS' CATTLE RUSTLED?"

YES was the reply. I shouted once more, "THAT'S WHAT I WANTED TO KNOW! YOU MEN CAN LEAVE NOW, AND I WON'T SHOOT! BUT, IF I EVER SEE ANY OF YOU AROUND HERE AGAIN, I WILL SHOOT TO KILL! NOW, GET OUT!"

That was the end of the scurrying around. They all jumped on horses and rode away as fast as their horses could move. That was enough for me, so I rode back to the Waters' place as fast as I safely could. I found that both hate and anger were now gone, apparently purged when I killed Hawthorn.

I guess that the siblings were watching for me, since they met me on the front veranda when I rode up. I was barely off my horse when Barbara was in my arms, and we were kissing like there was no tomorrow. Tony ran up right after her and tried to wrap his arms around both of us. Both of them were crying in what I found out was relief that I had come back unharmed. I told them that I was unhurt and Hawthorn was dead, so the range war should be over, since all of his hands had run off.

We went back inside and Barbara fixed us some supper while Tony put my horse up. I washed a hell of a lot of trail dust off and was more than ready to eat when she called us to the dining room. We helped Barbara clean up from supper, and then we discussed a funeral for Elias. I didn't have much input to the discussion, since I really didn't know the people who lived around the ranch.

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