The following Sunday's church service in Heyser went along in a manner that was relatively similar to the week prior - the parishioners gawked, the pastor gave Samuel looks before (and after) the sermon, Katherine glared at anyone and everyone who dared to stare and the boys sat side-by-side in that pew not giving a damn
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"Lincoln County. Sources report that notorious outlaw William H. Bonney, also know as Billy the Kid, was shot and killed by the Sheriff Patrick Garrett on the night of July 14th, 1881. It has been confirmed that Bonney was killed by a gunshot wound to the back, while witnesses advise that the outlaw was cornered in the the residence of a Mr. Pete Maxwell,"
I know Pete.
"And that only one shot was fired to send the Kid to his grave."
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She fixes her gaze on the illustration as Jay continues to read.
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He continues reading.
"Bonney was interred at the cemetery in Old Fort Sumner, an audience of locals, with Sheriff Garrett attending. Also present were the other who had relentlessly worked alongside the lawman to track down the other members of the Kid's gang and bring them to Justice..."
Jay shakes his head slightly.
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"Katie."
Katherine purses her lips together, lowering her gaze from the paper.
The rest of the boys cluck and whistle, shaking their heads and muttering in disbelief.
"One shot... the famous gunslinger, damn near untouchable, took down with one shot."
Samuel clears his throat quietly, as a warning against any further cussing.
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Let the dead rest, you tail-turnin' son of a bitch.
He taps the paper. "You know Garrett used to ride with the Kid? They was like pals. That ain't justice, turnin' on your friends like that, for money." He passes it off to another one of the men, whatever hand is reaching for it. "Then to go writin' 'bout killin' him?"
S'bullshit, that's what it is.
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"No shh--kidding?"
Katherine blinks up at him with wide, blue eyes, inquisitive and sincere.
"Did you know Garrett, too?"
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"We wasn't pals," he says simply, and he shakes his head, glancing back at the newspaper. "Didn't meet him personally but..."
He lets out a slightly chagrined laugh, shaking his head, hand going to the back of his neck. "I gotta...thing for them five cent books and the dime novels they've been writin' 'bout him for years. They ain't all truth but...there's some in there, if y'can find the good ones."
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(That might be a quiet groan from her father in the background.)
"Really?" she enthuses, voice bright. "How do you know what's a good one?"
Samuel's hand comes down on his daughter's shoulder. "I think it's about time we started heading back. Boys!"
He whistles sharp to get everyone's attention.
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He trails off when Samuel whistles, and he glances sidelong at Katherine when her father turns his head.
Later.
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At length, Samuel manages to get his hands wrangled together. Once they're all back on the wagon, heading out of town, conversation about the famous outlaw and his infamous end continues between the boys.
Unsurprisingly, quite a number of their questions end up directed at Jay.
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(This is so Katherine will be within earshot of at least his parts of the conversation, but he'll never admit that to a soul.)
It's really no surprise that the questions fly at him. He answers as best he can, without giving too many personal details away...but everyone knows that the Kid's the best shot in the west and there was no way in heck that he'd go down if Garrett had given him a fair shake...
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"It's a terrible shame when another man is cut down," comes Samuel Barlow's rich, smooth voice. It immediately cuts through the din, and respectfully every other voice goes silent.
"Especially a young man, barely old enough to lift a pipe."
That's all he really has to say on the matter.
The rest of the ride back to the estate goes along quietly.
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Garrett, you goddamn cowardly bastard.
But he keeps quiet for the rest of the ride back to the estate, settled there in the wagon, watching the passing landscape while his thoughts wander.
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Jim and the boss head out after a while, to take a ride through the property and do some hunting.
Miss Katherine eventually finds herself in a peach tree, reading one of those paperback serials. She is still wearing her skirts, but the crooked branches are low enough to the ground that it looks almost like she's using the tree as a hammock.
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Jay ignores the smile that curls at his lips and masks it with another drink of water, before he pulls his hat off and combs his hair back slightly, with damp fingers. As he walks over, he reaches for his notebook, and tucks the pencil behind his ear, taking notes as he walks.
He can totally check on the peach crop.
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Blue eyes smile at him briefly, though her face stays neutral. Because she's still totally reading that book, of course.
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