The Gunsmith of Gunnison Gorge

A little over two seconds later by Bart's count, a puff of dust appeared just in front of the rock. Jacob reloaded the rifle, made an adjustment to the telescopic sight, and fired again. This time, the rock bounced as the heavy bullet impacted it in the center. Jacob turned to Bart.

"The sight must have been bumped a little on the way out here. Fixed that on the second shot and Myrtle's back on target now. That convince you?"

Bart had no doubts now that Jacob could do what he said, but there were still a lot of things that could go wrong.

Bart knew the location of the cabin and the area around it. He planned to put Jacob on a small, brush-covered rise about half a mile from the cabin. That part was easy to do. The rise was far enough away the man probably wouldn't see Jacob getting into position. Bart would then leave his posse around the bend in the trail to the cabin and take Riggs with him to the cabin. His aim was to get Riggs' brother outside and standing still long enough for Jacob to kill or wound him.

There was a high probability the man wouldn't come outside unless he released Riggs, but Bart was going to insist on seeing Maddie first. The man would probably agree to do that once he saw Bart was alone, but he would probably keep Maddie in front of him as a shield. The rise was off to one side so the man would be at least a little exposed on that side, but Jacob's aim would have to be dead on. Bart didn't want to think about what would happen if Jacob missed.

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Jacob hadn't ridden from town with the rest of the posse. There was too much risk Riggs would see him leave the group and somehow alert his brother or that the other men of the posse would question why Jacob had left. Instead, Jacob rode by himself across country to the rise. Bart hoped his directions were good enough for Jacob to find it. Bart would only know if he saw Jacob's horse tied at the base of the rise. If it wasn't, that meant Jacob wasn't there and Bart would have to contend with the situation as it played out.

They started for the cabin an hour later with Riggs handcuffed and with his hands tied to the saddle horn of his horse. Bart led that horse in front of the group of ten men from the town. They rode slowly and didn't say much to each other. They were already in agreement that if anything happened to Maddie or to Bart, neither Riggs nor his brother would leave Colorado Territory alive.

Half a mile from the cabin, Bart halted the posse and explained they were to stay where they were until Bart came back with Maddie or they heard shots fired. Bart pulled on the reins of the horse Riggs rode and started for the cabin. He glanced at the foot of the rise, but didn't see Jacob's horse. Bart had a feeling this day wasn't going to turn out very well for Maddie.

When he got to the ramshackle building, Bart stopped just out of pistol range and yelled, "You in the cabin. I got your brother with me. Bring Mrs. Wilson out so I can see she's all right. If she is, we'll talk about how to exchange them. If she isn't, I got a posse with me, and neither you or your brother will have to worry about a trial."

Maddie slowly appeared in the open door of the cabin with the man right behind her. He had one arm around her waist. The other held a revolver to her head.

The man stopped a few feet from the cabin and yelled to Riggs.

"You all right, Samuel?"

Riggs looked at Bart and grinned, then yelled back, "Yes, James, I'm fine."

The man then yelled at Bart.

"You let my brother go and as soon as he gets to me, I'll let the woman go."

Bart shook his head.

"I don't think so. You let Mrs. Wilson get to me first and then I'll let your brother go."

The man laughed.

"Yeah, so's you can shoot me soon's she's out of the way. My brother goes first unless you want this pretty little lady to die."

Bart figured Jacob had been right. As soon as Riggs got to the man Riggs had called James, the man would kill Maddie and then shoot him. He had to get Maddie out of the line of fire somehow if he was to have a chance at saving them both. He shook his head.

"Can't do that. How about if you let her start walking toward me and I'll do the same with your brother? That way we'll both be able to make sure neither one of us does anything. I'll warn you though, if anything happens to Mrs. Wilson, I'll shoot you both."

Riggs spoke then.

"James, what he said about a posse is true, and I heard them saying they'd just as soon shoot us both as take us back for a trial. Let the woman start walking this way. The Marshall won't do anything until she's safe beside him, and once she is, he won't do anything for fear she might get hurt."

"Yeah, and what if he does?"

Riggs looked at Bart and grinned again.

"You wouldn't risk this little lady getting shot, would you Marshall? Wouldn't do you any good anyway. James would kill you both before you got that revolver out of the holster."

Bart looked Riggs in the eyes. He didn't believe for a second that the man wouldn't open fire as soon as Riggs was close enough to run to the cabin. Still, it was the only way to possibly get Maddie to safety."

"No. Once Mrs. Wilson is safe, you two can ride on and I won't follow you."

Riggs turned back to his brother.

"Let her start walking as soon as the marshal takes off these handcuffs and I start. Just tell her to stay between you and the Marshal."

Bart took off Riggs' handcuffs and Riggs dismounted and started walking his horse toward the cabin. The man holding Maddie released her and she started walking toward Bart. Bart held his breath until she was about twenty feet from the man. He was getting ready to yell at her to drop to the ground so he could shoot James when he heard a whistling sound and then a dull thud. James dropped his revolver, fell to the ground clutching his chest, and then lay still. A second later, the loud crack of a rifle echoed off the mountains in the distance.

At the sound of the shot, Maddie ran the rest of the way to Bart's side. Riggs ran to his brother's side, knelt down, and then looked up at Bart and screamed, "You killed my brother".

Bart drew his revolver, put Maddie behind him, and then told Riggs to stay where he was. He was putting the handcuffs back on Riggs when the posse rode up to the cabin at a gallop. Mr. Driggle dismounted, walked to where James lay, then turned to Bart.

"Marshal, what happened? We only heard one shot and figured he'd killed you. How did you manage to shoot him before he shot you?"

Bart stood up.

"I didn't. Jacob did."

"Jacob, the crippled gunsmith? He didn't come with us."

"Yes, he did. You just didn't know it. If it hadn't been for Jacob, you'd probably be finding both me and Mrs. Wilson laying here. He's the one who saved us both."

"But how?"

No one had seen Jacob quietly ride up to the group. He then dismounted and limped to James' body, looked at it, and then limped back. He looked at Bart and smiled.

"I thought he'd never give me a clean shot. Thanks for getting Mrs. Wilson out of the way. He had her so tight I couldn't risk it before he let her go. She's all right, isn't she?

Bart nodded.

"Yes, she's fine. I'd given up on you because I didn't see your horse."

Jacob frowned.

"Sorry about that. Once I got to the rise, the only place I could have tied my horse where you could see him could probably be seen from that cabin. That would have spooked the man and he'd probably have shot Mrs. Wilson. I tied him a bit up in the brush on the far side. There wasn't any way to let you know."

Mayor Williams approached Jacob and held out his hand.

"On behalf of Gunnison Gorge, I want to thank you, Jacob. Tell me, where did you learn to shoot like that?"

Jacob smiled.

"Well, my daddy was a gunsmith, so I grew up shooting. Just comes natural like, I guess."

The Mayor still hadn't released Jacob's hand but he wasn't shaking it anymore.

"That rise is over a quarter of a mile from here. I only know of a few men who could make that shot. All of them were sharpshooters during the war. I figure you must have been one of them. Which side?"

Jacob took a deep breath before answering. He figured doing so would result in being told to leave Gunnison Gorge.

"Sir, I was Confederate then. Now I'm just a man lookin' to get on with my life, so please let me stay in Gunnison Gorge. The war cost me the use of one leg and I don't want no trouble with anybody. I just want to be a gunsmith."

Mayor Williams frowned.

"There are a lot of folks in town who wouldn't like it that you were a Rebel. What should I tell them?"

"Just tell them the War's over and I just want to be a gunsmith like I said. I don't want no trouble with anybody over anything."

The Mayor smiled.

"I think that might be enough for some folks. If you live up to what you say, the rest'll probably come around in time."

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An hour later, Riggs was once again in a jail cell, his brother was at the undertaker's, and Bart was sitting at his desk writing a report about what had happened. He was interrupted by the office door opening. He looked up and saw Maddie standing there.

"Afternoon, Maddie. What can I do for you?"

"I just wanted to thank you for getting me away from that man. He kept telling me he was going to shoot me so the rest of the ranchers would do what he and his brother wanted. He said shooting you would make them believe even if shooting me and Mr. Richardson didn't. You saved my life."

Bart smiled.

"Maddie, it's not me you should be thanking. You should be thanking Jacob. He's the man who got you out of danger."

Maddie frowned.

"I can't do that. He was a Rebel, one of the Rebels who killed my husband. I can't forgive him for that, much less thank him. I'm not sure I can even go back and get my revolver from him now that I know what he was."

Bart motioned to Maddie.

"Maddie, I don't like seeing you like this, and haven't since I first heard how you feel. Come have a seat so we can talk a little."

When Maddie sat down, Bart smiled.

"Maddie, I understand how you feel more than you know. I was a Union artilleryman in the war, and I saw a lot of men killed. One of those men was my brother, Isaac. He and I both enlisted at the same place and time, and served in the same artillery unit. He got killed in one of the first battles of the war, and that made me hate the Confederates. After a year, I started to understand some things about war that changed my mind.

"War is a terrible thing that turns men into killers who kill without any other reason than to stay alive. They aren't evil men, they're just men trying to not get killed. The officers probably have some idea about why they're fighting, but I know firsthand, for the men doing the fighting it's just fight to stay alive.

"I know that I killed a lot of men on the other side, either with cannon shells or with my rifle if they were close enough. I didn't hate those men. It was just that either I killed them or they'd kill me. I'd expect most of the Confederate soldiers felt the same way.

Bart picked up two of the papers on his desk.

"These are wanted posters on Riggs and his brother I got yesterday from Denver City. It has some of Riggs' history on it. He and his brother were jayhawkers in Kansas before the war. Their group killed several farmers and families who lived along the Kansas Territory/Missouri border because they were supposed to be pro-slavery. None of those families were slave owners. They were just farmers who came to Missouri from slave states. The jayhawkers killed them and burned or took everything they owned. Riggs and his brother laid claim to those farms once the people had been killed, and then sold them to free-staters. They were both wanted for that in Kansas. That's why they came to Colorado Territory.

"The jayhawkers were formed to keep Kansas free. Riggs and his brother used that Union cause as an excuse to kill and steal. Does siding with the Union make those crimes excusable?"

"No, of course not."

"So, just because a man was Union doesn't mean he was a good man?"

"No, I guess it doesn't."

"Then why would a man who was a Confederate mean he's a man you should hate?"

"But they killed my husband."

"Yes, and your husband most likely killed some Confederate soldiers. Should their wives hate your husband?"

"No. My husband was just serving his country."

"Don't you think Jacob was doing the same thing -- serving what he thought was his country once Tennessee joined the Confederacy?"

"I...I suppose he might have been."

"Why don't you go ask him and let him tell you himself. I think Jacob's a good man who's just looking to start over here in Gunnison Gorge. He wouldn't have volunteered to go with me to get you if he was anything else."

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Jacob ran the cleaning rod down through the bore of the Whitworth rifle to clean the powder fowling from the barrel. The breech end was sitting in a bucket of hot water, and bubbles streamed from the nipple as the tight fitting patch pushed the air from the barrel. When the cleaning rod and patch bottomed out on the breech plug, Jacob pulled the rod back out slowly and let the hot water fill the barrel.

He'd done this six times when the door to his shop opened and Maddie walked in. Jacob leaned the barrel against his work bench, wiped off his hands and stood up.

"Afternoon, Miss Wilson. I hope you're feelin' all right after what happened today. I'm sorry but I don't have your revolver done yet. I'll need a couple more days."

Maddie tried to smile.

"I'm fine now, but I'm not here about my revolver. I'm here to talk to you about today."

"I see. I don't have any chairs except one in the bedroom yet, but you can have a seat on my box here if you want."

Maddie shook her head.

"No, I'll stand."

Maddie took a deep breath.

"Mr. Cunningham, my husband was killed by the Confederate Army at the Battle of Glorietta Pass in New Mexico. Since then, I've hated anyone associated with the Confederacy. I was going to thank you today until I heard you were a Confederate. I couldn't do that, so I went to thank Marshal Thompson instead.

"He wouldn't let me and said I should thank you since what happened was all your doing. I told him I didn't think I could do that. He said I should come talk to you and hear why you fought in the war, so here I am. He said you were from Tennessee. Did you have slaves before the war?"

Jacob shook his head.

"No, Ma'am. My daddy didn't believe in havin' slaves. He said it was against the Bible. Besides, we didn't farm so we didn't have no need for slaves. He was a gunsmith."

"Then why did you fight for the Confederacy?"

"Well, when the southern states started quittin' the United States and startin' their own country, Daddy said it was so the rich people could keep their slaves and keep gettin' richer. The man who ran the general store in Adams said it was all about states rights, that states should be able to make their own laws about things like slavery and how they sold their cotton and tobacco. Neither one made any sense to me because we wasn't rich and we didn't have no slaves, so I wasn't going to be a part of it.

"When the Union captured Fort Donnellson and started for Nashville, it was like the locusts had come. The Union troops took everything the people had, chickens, hogs, cattle, horses, even the crops from their gardens. That made me change my mind about enlistin'. Most of them people didn't have nothin' to do with slaves and was just tryin' to live the best they could. I figured if I enlisted, maybe I could stop some of it.

"When they saw I could shoot pretty straight, they put me in the Whitworth Sharpshooters and gave me a Whitworth rifle. I spent my time in the war tryin' to keep them Union cannons from killin' so many of our men. I guess I did that some, but it got me this stiff leg as payment. Wish I'd have stayed home now. All that killin' keeps me awake some nights still."

"You must have lost friends during the war. Don't you hate the Union like I hate the Confederacy?"

Jacob shook his head.

"No, Ma'am. I can't hate the soldiers I fought against. They were just trying to make it through the war. I don't much care for the officers on either side. They kept sendin' men out to charge through open fields knowin' they'd be shot and killed. I suppose they were doin' what they thought was right, but they shoulda taken better care of their men."

"What about the government? Don't you hate them?"

Jacob smiled.

"Ma'am, my daddy read me a passage from the Bible when I got back home. He said he wanted me to think about what had happened and to not let that make me lose track of who I was and what I was going to do. Let me go get my Bible because I marked it and I read it sometimes when I'm feeling bad."

Jacob stood up and walked into the back room. A moment later he came back thumbing through the pages of a well-worn Bible.

"Carried this Bible through the war from the day I enlisted and then all the way from Tennessee to Colorado Territory. Ah...here it is. 1st John 2:11. 'But whoever hates his brother is in the darkness and walks in the darkness, and does not know where he is going, because the darkness has blinded his eyes.'

Jacob looked up at Maddie.

"See, Ma'am, what that means is if you start hatin', you don't see nothin' else, not the good in the world or in other people or the good things that happen to you. You just stumble around hatin' things. The Union won, and dwellin' on it and hatin' em wouldn't do anything except make me feel bad all the time."

"Why did you ask Marshal Thompson to go with him?"

"Well, Ma'am, you was in trouble and to my way of thinkin', there wasn't much Marshall Thompson could do about it. If he rode in there with the posse, they'd have got the man, but not before he shot you and probably some of the others. If Marshal Thompson went just with Riggs and let him go, his brother would probably have shot you both. He needed somebody who could get the brother before he could do anything to either one of you. I knew I could do that."

"I...I'm sorry you had to kill another man."

Jacob shook his head.

"You don't need to be sorry, Ma'am. Riggs' brother needed killin'. He tried to kill Mr. Richardson for no reason other than Mr. Richardson wouldn't sell his farm. That weren't no reason to kill somebody. Neither was him saying he'd kill you if Marshal Thompson didn't give him his brother. Killin' it is the only way to stop a mad dog, and that's what Riggs' brother was -- a mad dog. I ain't sorry for that."

For the first time since she'd brought him her revolver, Jacob saw Maddie smile. It wasn't much of a smile, just a little lift in the corners of her mouth, but it was there.

"Jacob, I guess I should...I guess Bart was right about you. It's hard for me to say this but...thank you."

Jacob grinned.

"No need to thank me, Ma'am. I just done what any man who can do what I can woulda done."

Maddie's smile got a little bigger.

"You didn't have to though, and I owe you for that. What can I do to pay you back?"

Jacob grinned again.

"Ma'am, all I need from you is to be a friend. That's worth more to me than anything else you could give me."

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Bart kept Riggs in a cell for the week it took the circuit judge to get back to town. He did let Riggs attend the burial of his brother in the cemetery reserved for criminals, but he did so in handcuffs and leg irons. Because it was obvious that Riggs and his brother were working together to swindle ranch owners out of their land, he was tried for the murder of Mr. Richardson. The trial lasted only one day.

Maddie and Mrs. Richardson both testified that Riggs had tried to buy their ranches for much less than they were worth and that his brother, James, had been there to intimidate them. Timothy had recovered from being shot in the arm enough to stand up and swear to tell the truth. He'd testified that he'd seen James shoot Mr. Richardson, that James had captured Maddie and also shot him. Mr. Richardson wasn't well enough to attend the trial, but he'd written a statement that confirmed what the other witnesses said.