Rooneys' Land

Reads: 992  | Likes: 11  | Shelves: 1  | Comments: 7

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Westerns  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: February 26, 2018

A A A | A A A

Submitted: February 26, 2018

A A A

A A A


Rooneys’ Land

He rode in hard and he rode in fast but the looks he was getting from those he passed told Ben Rooney that he was too late. Usually, he’d slow the horse to a canter once he reached town but today the horse stayed at a gallop all the way to the saloon doors.

Ben drew his horse to an abrupt halt and leaped from the saddle in one fluid movement. His hands shaking, he fastened the reins to the halting post then turned to stride angrily towards the swing doors. Several men removed their hats as he walked passed. Nodding curtly, he slammed through the doors with so much force that they banged hard against the walls.

The talking stopped, the drinking ceased and more hats were removed out of respect. There was only one table that seemed unaffected, where the laughter and the chat continued, and it was towards this that Ben approached.

The man, dressed in a black suit, did not remove his hat as Ben neared, but looked him straight in the face. “The deal was sunrise. You should have gone east, not west. Maybe then your father would still be alive.”

Struggling to hold back his anger, Ben drew the pistol from it’s holster. He trained it steadily on the head of the man in black; it spoke volumes that not one person tried to intervene. Many had suffered from this man’s greed and manipulation but Jed Rooney had been the first to lose his life.

Holding the gun surprisingly steady, Ben put his other hand into his pocket and pulled out a wad of notes. He held them up for a moment, wanting witnesses to the transaction, before tossing the wad down hard on to the table. The pile of notes split, some drifting one way, some another. Even with the gun aimed at his head the man in black could not prevent himself from reaching out, hungrily gathering them up.

It’s all there. Every dollar; every cent. I should shoot you where you are sitting for what you did to my Pa. And for what you’ve done to everyone else here too.” Other men rose from their places, moved over to stand beside Ben. “We don’t want you here, with your trickery, your cheating. Take the money and get out.”

Who are you to tell me what to do?”

Me? I’m the man with the gun to your head and the finger that’s itching to pull the trigger.” Ben gave a cold and emotionless smile. “And if you ever set foot on my land again I will blow that head right off that scrawny neck of yours and leave you for the vultures to pick over.”

Everyone in the town came to witness the man in black depart; ‘like a whipped puppy with it’s tail between it’s legs,’ someone was heard to remark. Man after man, woman after woman lined up to pay their respects and share commiserations on the passing of his father; ‘ a fine and upstanding, law-abiding man.’

By the time Ben rode out to the grave the sun was getting low in the sky. He dismounted from his horse and approached the cross that protruded from the ground. He walked slowly, steadily, to stand beside it.

I’m sorry, Pa, for being too late, for letting you down. But I promise you this; this land is Rooneys’ land and that’s the way it’s going to stay.”


© Copyright 2020 hullabaloo22. All rights reserved.

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Add Your Comments:

Comments

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply