Chapter 2: Gun Smoke

The Turner Ranch was not hard to find. Jake observed the house and the outbuildings from a distance.

Jake did not survive in the war or the years as a cowboy in untamed territories by rushing in. He identified the foreman right away. The man liked to yell, and he had a lot of weapons on him. Jake waited until he could follow him alone.

The foreman discovered Jake earlier than he had hoped; they were still in sight of the house.

"What do you want?" The foreman scowled at Jake, keeping his hand on a cross-draw handgun. He had another one on his right hip and a rifle on a sling behind his back.

Unfortunately for the foreman, Jake already had his weapon — a shotgun — pointed loosely in the man's direction.

"I came here on behalf of Miss Minot. She claims you have some of her money and her stock."

The foreman didn't wait for the full explanation. He drew his gun. He was fast, but not as fast as Jake's finger on the trigger. With a shotgun careful aiming is not required. Buckshot made a bloody mess out of the gunslinger's chest.

Knowing the noise would be heard at the house, Jake ran to the front door. He kicked it open, and crouching as low as he could, he poked his head and his shotgun in.

Jake had earlier observed the hands going out in various directions. He expected the house to contain only Turner, his wife, or possibly a servant.

He was in luck. Turner himself, based on Alice's description stood a bit to the left, still fiddling with his gun belt.

Jake pointed the shotgun at him, straightening out and keeping his back to the wall.

"Drop the pistol, Mr. Turner. I have come to discuss compensation for the Minot Ranch."

Jake noticed a woman glancing into the hallway on his right. Before he could get any details, he realized that Turner, seeing Jake's head turn, was grabbing his revolver. Jake's peripheral vision and reaction time were excellent, and the second load of buckshot blasted out at close range.

This one was even louder, in the front room of the house. The late Mr. Turner was probably not bothered by the ringing in his ears – his chest looked even worse than his erstwhile foreman's.

Jake noticed the blood on the whitewashed wall, at the same time as the woman poked her head back into the room.

"Are you going to kill me too?" she asked. The woman seemed unafraid.

"Not if I can help it, ma'am.

"I came to discuss damages on behalf of Miss Minot, but Mr. Turner
went for his gun before we could start the discussion. Are you Missus
Turner, Ma'am?"

"Yes I am. And what damages did you want to discuss with my worthless husband?"

Jake was pleased, and rather surprised by the lack of grief on behalf of the widow Turner. She was a tall, shapely woman, with broad shoulders, impressively large and buoyant chest, and wide hips. Her waist was narrow, compared to her hips, but Jake could see that she was a substantial woman, unlike the skinnier, taller Alice.

Jake wasn't sure why he was comparing her to Alice, except that he hadn't seen a good-looking woman for months, and now he had met two. Of course, despite his horniness, Alice was hurt and grieving, and this one should have been grieving, but didn't seem to. In fact, she was looking at him with some interest.

"Missus Turner, I understand your late husband and his foreman had words with the late Mr. Minot, after which they shot him, took his money, had their way with his daughter, Alice, and set their house on fire. I understand they earlier stole their stock."

"Oh no! Poor girl, she is not even fifteen yet! And please don't call me Mrs. Turner; I am Dora."

"Jake, Ma'am. Dora. I am Jake Framer.

"I won't say I'm sorry for your husband's death, er, Dora, but I do regret any suffering it will cause you.

"I will apologize for intruding at a time like this, but I need to find Mr. Minot's money, if I can, and her stock as well. Alice Minot is in a bad shape, and she needs help to get her life back on track."

"Well, Jake, I am not going to pretend to any grief over Martin's death, although his death will probably cause me some difficulties. And I will help you find poor Alice's property; I am sorry for what Martin and Edgar did.