Kept

Mike didn't hesitate as he jumped up, grabbed Megan by the wrist and started dragging her despite her objections. Kate started beating Mike on the back trying to get him to let Megan go. He turned and punched her in the face. Blood was pouring from Kate's nose as she went down on her hands and knees, stunned by the blow.

Megan was roused, Mike slapped her face and Megan collapsed to the ground.

"I see your thousand!" Mike triumphantly crowed as he sat back down at the table.

Cutler desperately looked around asking people to loan him the money for the bet. He insisted that he held the winning hand. Either nobody had the money, or, more likely, wasn't inclined to loan him the money. Finally, he folded his hand in disgust.

O'Rourke looked at me and smiled in anticipation.

I surprised him when I drew out the last of my gold coins and called his bet.

"That's interesting," he said, "I was figuring you'd bet your wagons," he said as he asked for cards. Mike told him, he'd play his original hand. I asked for two cards and threw my discards away. I didn't bother looking to see what I was dealt. O'Rourke took three cards as I carefully watched him.

"I'm the last bettor, so I'll raise another thousand!" O'Rourke announced with glee.

Now, Mike the Pimp joined Cutler as he begged and pleaded for money, offering Kate for free sex for the rest of the trip. Nothing would entice the crowd to help the pimp. Facing the inevitable, he folded and collapsed in his chair.

Everyone looked at me.

"Tell you what friend, I'll accept your wagons for a bet!" "O'Rourke declared.

"They're worth ten times that much," I quietly stated.

"Maybe so," he replied, "but that's all I'll accept for your bet." He smugly stared down at me.

I paused as though weighing his offer.

"I call and raise you a bullet," I said, and I drew my Colt Navy pistol out of the holster and placed it on the table.

A collective gasp went through the audience as though a current of electricity had shot through them. Excited murmurs rose and they edged away from the table in case trouble arose.

"What do you mean you raise a bullet?" O'Rourke looked over at me with a frown. Both his hands were on top of the table to show that he wasn't visibly threatening me.

"Just that, a bullet." I replied. "You see, I finally recognized you. I've ran across you in a dozen Texas and Kansas cow towns. I never gambled against you so you'd have no cause to remember me, but, I've watched you cheat at cards in every gambling joint you've played in.

Back then you weren't called Michael O'Rourke. They called you 'Johnny-Behind-The-Deuce', a gambler mean as a rattler and just as lightning-lethal. I've watched you do the same thing you've just done here. You cheated so obviously that you wanted someone to accuse you so you could kill them.

You must have killed ten men playing the same type of hand. You'd deal one fella like Mike here four jacks, then another fellow like Cutler here four queens, then another fella like me four kings. Then you'd bottom deal yourself four aces."

I let the realization sink into O'Rourke that I was on to him.

"See, I haven't even looked at my cards but I know you dealt me that fourth king so I'd go chasing after the pot and lose my wagons to your four aces, Johnny. And it's pretty evident that Mike and Cutler had to fold their hands from the upset reactions they're showing after I described what you did."

Indeed, the agitation of both drunken men would have been interesting to watch had it not been that I had to continue focusing everything against O'Rourke. I could tell he was livid at being found out. He was going to try to kill me any second now.

His eyes glared into mine as he said, "So what's to stop me from killing you? You've accused me of cheating. After all, you've placed your gun on the table. All I've got to do is draw and shot before you reach for your gun!" He sneered.

"Johnny, you didn't know about my ace in the hole. While you've got both your hands on the table, I've got my second pistol drawn and hammer cocked under the table aimed right at your belly."

O'Rourke blanched as he realized my left hand had remained hidden the entire time we've been talking. There wouldn't be any way he could stand and draw before I had fired a couple of shots into him at point-blank range.

"Those .36 caliber slugs would tear into your liver before you've had a chance, Johnny. That's an awful way to die. Slowly bleeding and in pain while you screamed for relief."

I shook my head to accent that he didn't want to go up against an unwinnable situation.

"Now, there's two ways this could end," I announced. "One, you call my bet and I'll have Mike turn over his four jacks, then, Cutler will turn over his four queens, then, I'll turn over my four kings, and then you'll turn over your four aces. When that happens, I'll kill you for being a card cheat."

I allowed a couple of minutes to pass as O'Rourke shook in fear. Sweat poured down his face as he struggled to find a way out of his predicament. He didn't want to die today.

"You said there was another way." O'Rourke broke the silence as he desperately looked for a way out.

"Why, Johnny all you've got to do is fold your hand because you've been bluffing all along. You really don't have those four aces. You lose this hand, you get up and ride out of camp and you don't look back, Johnny." I warned.

Half a minute passed and he finally threw his hand in conceding defeat.

"When you get up, Johnny, I want you to be real slow. I want you to turn around facing away from me. Then draw your gun out of the holster with two fingers. Just drop it on the ground, Johnny, and leave it there. I'll have Willi bring your horse here and you can go without saying goodbye to anyone."

The camp cheered as he rode out in the night. Mike moved towards the jackpot.

"What do you think you're doing, Mike?" I moved my hand to block his way to the money.

"He cheated. You proved he cheated, so I'm getting my money back," he declared.

"No Mike, I didn't prove he cheated. He folded his hand just like you did right before he did. All I proved was he bluffed. And, Mike, my hand still beats yours so I'm collecting all the stakes."

I looked intently at Megan as it dawned on her what I was saying. I scooped up all the money and gripped Megan's arm as I led her away. Mike continued to protest and threatened me. I turned back to face him.

"If you've got a problem with that, well, my pistol is still out on the table anytime you want to try me, Mike."

The very second, we got inside my tent, Megan turned and slapped the shit out of me. I grabbed her biceps and shouted, "What the hell did you do that for?"

She looked furious as she said, "You think you've won me and now you can do whatever you like to me?"

"In case you've forgot, the man driving your wagon just put you up for a bet and punched your friend in the face! Do you really think I'll let you go back to that?" I bitterly spat.

"No, I've won you and I'm going to keep you! Keep you here, so you'll be safe. Keep you, so Willi and Gretchen won't worry about you, and you're going to earn your keep! You'll be responsible for the meals from now on. You're going to be responsible for those kids. When we start back on the trail, you'll be driving the second wagon, instead of Willi. And Gretchen will be sitting beside you instead of running 10 miles cursing those damn oxen every day!

And by God, do something about her language! I'm tired of hearing her cursing like a drunken sailor! Do you understand me, Mrs. Young?" I hissed.

I stormed out of the tent and literally bumped into Willi and Gretchen, bug-eyed from eavesdropping on the conversation. Megan began wailing inside the tent.

"Get in there and take care of her!" I ordered. They rushed inside to begin consoling Megan. I went to every wagon owned by someone who played poker that night. I hailed until the person woke and came outside so I could quietly talk to them.

I returned their money as best I could remember they lost to O'Rourke with the admonition not to tell anyone what I did. I spent a lot of time gruffly rejecting profuse thanks. By the end of the night, the only ones I hadn't reimbursed was Mike the Pimp and Cutler.

Fuck them.

"Kate, you awake?" I whispered loudly.

I heard a stirring in the wagon and Kate's head popped out. Even in the pale moonlight, I could see the damage from Mike's punch. Kate would be sporting a couple of black eyes from her broken nose.

"Is Mike around?" I asked.

"No, that sorry bastard is passed out drunk!" She said in a pissed off tone.

"I want you to gather yours and Megan's things. You're coming to stay with us." I told her.

"Are you sure, Zeb?" she asked in grateful relief.

"One thing, Kate. I don't want Willi and Gretchen exposed to your business." I warned.

"Don't worry, Zeb. Any man that wants to fuck me while I look like this will be horny enough to take me to his place," she sourly chuckled.

When Kate entered the tent, a round of cheers erupted for the reunion as excited voices overlapped in conversation. I dug my saddle out of the wagon and dropped it near the campfire for warmth and put my head on the hard leather pillow. 'So, glad my plan to improve my life is going so well', I sarcastically thought as I drifted off to sleep.

Breakfast was not a rousing success. People kept drifting over, thanking me and giving me small gifts despite my admonition from last night not to do so. In a state of pique, I refused to tell a curious Megan.

"I don't know and it's none of your damn business, Mrs. Young!" I informed her after the fourth request for information. That shut her up in a foul mood to match mine.

A hungover Mike the Pimp bumbled up and demanded that Kate return to his wagon. She screamed her refusal and I had to shove him away, forcefully warning him not to come back.

That was enough for me. I invited Willi to go back fishing with me, but he hesitantly said that he, Gretchen and Megan had something planned. I spent the whole day fishing. Didn't get a single damn nibble. Strangely, I was okay with that. The serenity of being alone with a nearby waterfall gushing water allowed me to soak in the quiet till the sunset.

As I walked in camp I heard a ruckus. First, I thought it was just a couple of men getting into a fight. That was a common enough event during this journey. As I got closer I discovered it was a different matter altogether.

Gretchen was lying prone on the ground crying. Lying on top of her was Willi trying to protectively cover his sister. On top of Willi was Megan, huddling defensively as a man lashed her bare back with a riding crop.

Megan's ripped blouse lay on the ground besides her. The torn fabric was intermeshed with blood. The same blood pouring from lashes drawn across her back as the crazed man continued to strike her over and over.

Preacher Jeffers reared back and delivered another lash as he moved to the side to strike Willi and Gretchen. His stroke found Willi's ribs, and the boy winced from the pain as he continued to protect his sister.

"God damns all Papists!" Jeffers thundered as he delivered Willi another stroke of the bloody crop. Jeffers moved again to find flesh untainted from the riding crop. There was another strike on Megan as she screamed in pain.

God damns the Whores of Babylon that serves the Papists!" Jeffers delivered another lash as he declared, "God has anointed me as His Avenger to punish the Spawns of Hell!

Kate screamed in protest as Meagan arched her back in reaction to another painful lash. Kate couldn't intervene because Mike the Pimp was holding her to prevent her from aiding her friend. She fought Mike, trying to break free but it was no use because he was too strong for her.

The rest of the crowd was yelling in objection but William Cutler held them at bay holding a shotgun threatening to kill the first person that interfered. I couldn't risk firing a shot in the back of Cutler. Not because I had any moral concern of shooting an unsuspecting man in the back, but because my shot might miss and hit someone in the crowd.

I drew my gun, ran across to Cutler and clubbed him with the heavy pistol on the back of the head just as Mike the Pimp shouted a warning to him. Cutler dropped stunned to his knees and the angry crowd rushed and disarmed him of the shotgun. Then they swarmed Mike the Pimp and rescued Kate.

They left the unsuspecting Jeffers to me.

The crazed preacher was reaching to strike his helpless victims again when I turned him around and stuck him in the face with my pistol. He staggered back holding his arms out to protect himself. I moved inside the range of his arms and struck him again with the pistol. Blood spurted from his cheek.

He screamed, trying to retreat from the onslaught. The angry crowd pushed him back to face me. He began to whine, begging me not to hit him. I responded by launching a haymaker with my pistol that caught him flush on the mouth.

His lips split open from the painful blow. It chipped his front teeth, and now the nerve exposed to the air caused him agony as he began to cry. Still, he begged me and still I continued to methodically pistol-whip him till he barely resembled anything human.

As I reared back to hit the defenseless man again, my hand was stopped. Herman Kohrs looked at me with concern as he calmly said, "He's had enough, Zeb."

"The hell he has!" I growled trying to free my arm.

"No, Zeb. He's had enough." Herman tried to rationally convince me. "You don't want to kill him."

"The hell I don't!"

"I'm banishing him, Mike, and Cutler from the wagon train," Herman pronounced.

"The hell you are! Fetch me my bullwhip! I'll kill every one of the fuckers!" I ranted.

"Zeb, you don't want their blood on your hands." Herman continued to try to get me to see reason.

I looked Herman directly in the eyes. "Herman, you have no idea how much blood is on my hands." I coldly stated. "These three sorry fuckers won't make that much difference."

Herman threw his last argument at me.

"Zeb, you're scaring Megan and the kids."

At the mention of their names, I instinctively looked over to them. Still huddled on the ground clinching each other they all had frightened faces of seeing a side of my character they never expected existed.

My anger instantly dissipated at the thought of causing them hurt. I fumbled my pistol back into the holster. I took a solitary step towards them hoping they'd forgive my homicidal rage they had witnessed with their own eyes.

I reached an arm out in supplication. Willi and Gretchen ran to me crying and wrapped their arms around me. I stood there consoling them as best I could as I kissed the top of their heads.

I moved to Megan still on the ground looking at me in hopeful anticipation. The angry red welts on her torso and the still bloody lashes on her back remained exposed to all.

Despite being topless, I had little interest in studying her exquisite tits just then. My concern was to get her away from this place so I could tend to her. I carefully picked her up; trying not to injure her any more than she already suffered and carried her to my tent.

She held her arms around me and buried her head to my side as I walked. I told Willi to find me a jug of moonshine. He ran to comply with the request. Gretchen walked by my side, grasping the side of my blue jeans, in need of a physical connection as she watched Megan in concern.

We walked Megan to my tent. I told Gretchen to stay outside. I carried Megan inside and gingerly placed her on a cot. She continued to cry and moan from the pain. I studied the scarring across her back, Megan kept her head cast down away from my view.

The tent flap opened and Kate came in with two bottles. One, was the bottle of moonshine I requested. The other was a bottle of salve to treat the wounds. Kate said that the Kohrs would be taking care of Willi and Gretchen while Megan recuperated. Kate then left me alone with Megan.

I took the bottle of nearly pure alcohol and told Megan to drink as much as she could stand. Megan would take a gulp and then grimace, concentrating to keep the drink down. She continued to imbibe while she explained what happened.

"When you left to go fishing, a lady came by and gave Gretchen a small gold crucifix as thanks for returning her husband's money that he lost at the poker game. I didn't think anything about it as I put the necklace on Gretchen and admired it.

We were walking through camp and Preacher Jeffers saw us. When he spotted the necklace, he went crazy, calling Gretchen a minion of Satan, and he struck her with his riding crop. I slapped him and he struck me. Willi charged him and tried to fight him, and he hit Willi.

Then he went on a rampage, trying to beat Gretchen with the riding crop. Willi fell on top of her to defend her and take the blows. I came back at him and he grabbed my blouse and ripped it right off, while he lashed me over and over. I dropped on top of Willi and then you came to our rescue," she hiccupped.

"Megan, I don't mean to hurt you, but I have to put alcohol on your wounds or they'll get infected. It's going to hurt bad," I warned.

Megan nodded and braced herself for the pain that was coming. I poured moonshine liberally on my kerchief and then gently began dabbing Megan's wounds.

She continued to jerk and flinch when the alcohol made contact. She moaned her pain and I spoke in a low calm matter trying to console her. I ordered her to keep drinking the moonshine hoping it would anesthetize some of the hurt.

I applied the salve, dipping a finger in the gel and tracing over the welts. Megan began trembling at my touch. I thought how I had longed to touch Megan, and now under circumstances I wish I hadn't.

"I wish you knew how I been wanting you to touch me, Zeb. I spent every night dreaming that you would touch me, hold me, kiss me, make love to me," Megan slurred her tearful words as the moonshine took effect. I dressed the wounds with cotton gauze when Megan passed out. Then I sat vigil over her, ready to do whatever I needed to do to help the woman I loved.

Kate relieved me in the morning over my protests. Herman Kohrs' wife came by with some soup for Megan. Slowly, I became aware that every woman that had disparaged Megan and Kate had now accepted them in friendship. There was a constant barrage of visitors assisting Megan's needs. I was shunted to the side while Megan mended.

Herman Kohrs decided that the wagon train would need to spend an additional week in camp to continue the repairs on the wagons. That was all right by me. It allowed me to go hunt for much need supplies of meat to replenish our larder.

I was back fishing when she came to me. I was sitting on a large granite slab downstream from the waterfall, enjoying the residual heat of the rock. Megan sat by me and then nuzzled up to me.

"You look better," I said with a lump in my throat.

"I feel better. I just had to get away and find you!" she said, looking up to me.

I dropped my fishing pole and by mutual unspoken consent we moved together and kissed. We continued kissing. I was conflicted because I really wanted to touch her and caress her body but I didn't want to cause her pain from her injuries. Megan decided that issue when she took my hands and placed them on her tits. She watched my face to see how I would respond.

I began to softly rub and squeeze those glorious mounds. She brought her arms around me and pulled me tight to her. "Make love to me," she gasped.

Our passion continued to mount as I furious kissed her and nuzzled her neck. I gently bit her earlobe, and a soft moan of pleasure erupted from her. I moved my position, my hands eased her legs open and I stroked them.