Western Christmas Short Story

Sharing a short story I wrote for Christmas back in 2018 for my family. I'd been watching old Western movies and wanted to take a crack at writing a western Christmas tale. I had some fun tooling around with this one. 

A Christmas Eve Shootout

by: Jack Roberts 

The year was 1874 and the town was called Stampede. Stampede was a rough town, full of drinking holes, floozy women, and the cruelest and nastiest cowboys to ever ride the dusty roads of the West. Outlaws and thieves loved using the nearby canyon to escape from the law as well as to hide their stolen booty. However, things had changed when Colonel James “Bullseye” Rogers came to town as the new Sherriff. “Bullseye,” as everyone called him, was a famed Civil War hero and headed West after the war to live his life dream of farming a plot of land and finding a bonny wife to marry and have a family. Instead, he showed up to Stampede, found out he was a terrible farmer and was soon appointed Sheriff by the townsfolk because all other Sherriff’s had been, well…shot down dead.

          Bullseye was a natural at being Sheriff. That is, he lived up to his fame and nickname. He dueled the quickest and sharpest outlaws and blew them all out of their boots. He was a feared sheriff and quickly brought order back to Stampede. Of all the Sheriff’s that ever roamed the West, one would be hard bent to find one better or braver than Bullseye. He was dreaded by the bad guys and loved by the good. The only thing missing in Bullseye’s life was a bonny wife, but that was about to change.

          Ruby River Jenkins had come to Stampede as a performing singer and a thief. Well, she was a thief in the sense that she had stolen every man’s heart that ever-laid eyes on her. She held every man in the palm of her hand with her flowing red hair, stunning beauty, and sultry voice. That was until she met Bullseye. It didn’t take long for them to fall in love and Bullseye was planning on proposing to her on Christmas Day; he couldn’t wait.

          It was Christmas Eve; Bullseye had just returned from getting the ring he would use to propose to Ruby and held it excitedly in his front pant pocket. The ring was even more beautiful than he imagined and he pictured it sitting delicately on Ruby’s left ring finger. He had the entire event planned out, having scouted the perfect place to propose: a grove of trees, which sat huddled by the bend in the creek, with a stunning view of the red desert mountains that surrounded them. It would be a perfect proposal on a perfect Christmas day.

          Bullseye was staying warm that morning, sipping from a hot mug of coffee when he heard a commotion. A thundering of hooves barreled down the main dirt road. He guessed there were at least fifteen horses from the sound, maybe even more. This was unusual. He quickly stood, grabbed his rife, and went outside to assess.

          To his astonishment, it was the famed “Desert Rattlers.” Bullseye had heard tales about these outlaws, of their skilled robberies, murders, and gun-slinging adventures but was always skeptical as to their authenticity. Stories like these were all too common in the West, and no one, least of which he had known, had actually witnessed any of the tales. However, when Bullseye saw the gang, he knew it had to be them as they fit the feared description. Every gang member hung the rattlers of dead rattlesnakes off their pierced ears with tightly wrapped jet-black bandanas over their mouths and nose. Their leader, Cody “One Eye,” had been an infamous outlaw for some time, just no one had seen or heard of him for years and most had thought him dead.

          The outlaws raced past Bullseye, not giving him a second thought. Instead, they went straight for Tim Tom’s Outpost and General Store. A cluster of shots cracked the air as the men stormed in. 

          By the time Bullseye had caught up, the Desert Rattlers had everyone pinned down on the ground, at gunpoint, filling up a wagon on whiskey, food, and other supplies that had recently just arrived the night before. Bullseye had been caught off guard, his other deputies were at home with their families, and he’d be all alone taking on all fifteen of Cody One-Eye’s men. 

          Still, Bullseye had to do something. It was, after all, Christmas Eve and people had been waiting weeks for this supply to arrive. Not only would this ruin Christmas it would also put a world of hurt on the town for the next few weeks if they had to wait for another supply of goods to arrive. 

          Bullseye quickly scaled the building next door to gain higher ground and protection. He examined the men, looking for One-Eye. He spotted the snake and his red patch that covered his missing eye standing outside and keeping close to the wagon that was being filled with supplies. If he could take out the leader, perhaps the rest of the men would scatter off. He locked his sights on the man, settled his breathing and was getting ready to fire, when suddenly, One-Eye darted away from view entering the general store and out of sight. Dag gone-it!  Bullseye muttered.

The wagon was filling up quickly and it wouldn’t be long until the men saddled up their horses and would be gone. Bullseye’s window to stop this attack was quickly dissipating. The horses!  he thought. Two beautiful coffee-colored horses were leathered up and hitched to pull the wagon. That wagon wasn’t going anywhere if he could do something about them horses.

 Bullseye took his aim on the iron hitch that connected the horses to the wagon. The rectangular hitch looked mighty small from where Bullseye was standing, and partly blocked from the horses and the leather straps that hung down by it. It would have to be a perfect shot. Bullseye exhaled, relaxed his tension just enough and then fired. Ting!  It was a direct hit. The hitch busted apart, causing the front of the wagon to fall forward into the dirt, which spooked the horses causing them to rear up on their hind legs. However, the leather tethers prevented the horses from bolting and the wagon was now stuck in the dirt. The Desert Rattlers hadn’t expected this and the men scattered in a frantic panic.

“Shots!” one yelled.

“We got a sniper!” another hollered.

Some of the men started shooting, randomly and in all directions, hoping to scare off Bullseye or at least prevent him from shooting more. But, alas, their shooting was in vain as they had no idea where Bullseye was and their nervousness in getting shot in return caused them to retreat into the General Store. Others, who had been on horses, simply fled off riding out-of-sight.

Bullseye now had himself another dicey situation, a General Store full of innocent hostages with nothing-to-lose outlaws backed into a corner.

 A high-pitched and nasally voice yelled out from inside the General Store. “We got eight souls here that don’t wanna die today but who are gonna unless you let us go with that wagon full!”

Bullseye recognized the voice, it seemed, somehow, eerily familiar and he knew that it was the voice of One-Eye.

“Tell you what,” Bullseye hollered back. “You let them good people go, surrender your arms, and we’ll let you go.”

“We ain’t leaving without that bounty, you hear!”

Bullseye thought on it for a moment. The way he saw it, this would end very ugly, with lots of people shot up; unless, perhaps, there was a solution that would work for both parties. “Let’s make a deal.”

There was a long pause.

“What sort of deal?” One-Eye asked back suspiciously.

“I’m feeling mighty generous today, it being Christmas Eve and all. If you surrender and let those good people go, I’ll give you a portion of that bounty, a portion, you hear, and you get to leave with your lives.”

“No, give us the bounty, all of it, and you get your souls,” One-Eye shouted back.

“Don’t be foolish, our people need those supplies too,” Bullseye retorted. “I’ve offered you a fair deal.”

By now, Bullseye’s deputies were on the scene and he motioned for them to strategically, and with as much stealth possible, take up positions around the General Store.

“I ain’t trusting you. You ain’t going to give us nothing and you ain’t going to let us go,” One-Eye barked.

“I didn’t shoot your men when I could’ve,” Bullseye replied. “And my deal stands. I’ll even get you hitched back to the wagon. Let’s not have ourselves hurtin’ anybody today, alright?”

There was another long pause, too long, Bullseye thought. Then, suddenly, almost of out no-where, One-Eye and a group of his men emerged from the General Store in a bull-rush fashion shooting, shouting, and sprinting toward their horses. Bullseye took aim but, to his shock, found that each of the men had a hostage with them, acting as shields, and worse, One-Eye was holding Ruby River! Despite the flurry of shots all around, Bullseye kept his eye fixed on One-Eye and Ruby. Tactically, One-Eye mounted a horse pulling Ruby up with him. Bullseye wasn’t about to let them get away, he shot, taking the horse out from underneath them. Bullseye aimed again, but by now, the other men saw where Bullseye had been perched and started firing directly at him. One of the bullets seared right through his shoulder and another zoomed past his ear; he was pinned.

The shootout finally ended. Four of the Desert Rattlers had been killed, two of the hostages had escaped, but the rest, including Ruby and five others, had been taken away. The one bullet had hit Bullseye and two of his deputies had been shot as well, but like Bullseye, they would live to tell the tale.  

As Bullseye and his men were cleaning their wounds, they strategized on how they could get the hostages, and his bonny Ruby, back safe and sound.

“Anybody know where they are hiding out?” Bullseye asked.

“Can’t be too far from here and it’s too cold for them to survive long being high in the canyon,” one of the deputies said.

“You think they went up the canyon?” Bullseye asked.

“They were seen headed that a-way,” he said, motioning with his head.

“Well, alright then. Let’s make a plan and go fetch ‘em.”

          Bullseye and the men decided to gather a load of supplies, that could be spared, to take with them in hopes they could bargain for the lives of the hostages. Particular emphasis was given to barrels of whiskey and smoked meats, knowing that is what the outlaws would want most.

          It was early afternoon by the time the men set off and a cold northern wind began blowing in their direction. Bullseye knew that the wind was bringing with it a winter snow storm and he didn’t want to be caught up the mountain, with no shelter, when that arrived. What they needed to get done needed to be done swiftly.

          The men made their way through the canyon moving quickly, yet carefully. They were constantly on the lookout for snipers who would undoubtedly be perched and waiting to pick off any intruders. A couple of miles up the canyon and, sure enough, a round of bullets went zipping by them, ricocheting off the granite boulders that sat nearby.

          “Damn, I’m hit!’ one of his deputies cried out.

          Bullseye looked over to assess the damage. A spot of blood began spreading around the man’s upper arm.

          “I’ll be fine,” the deputy said wrapping a piece of cloth around the impacted area. I think it just grazed me more than anything.”  

          “Don’t’ shoot! Bullseye announced. “We’re here to bargain a deal.”

          A few more bullet’ flew by and Bullseye knew the misses were intentional.

          “Look,” he hollered. “We have supplies you need and just want our folks back safe and sound.”

          By now, Bullseye had figured there were three men set as snipers, each positioned in a triangular manner to ensure nobody made it through the trail that bottlenecked up ahead. Although he couldn’t spot them with his eye, he had made out where he was sure they were hiding.

          “Leave the goods and we’ll let you live,” one of the outlaws barked.

          “That’s right,” another laughed. “Maybe, we'll let you live.”

          Bullseye motioned for his men to take cover and quietly ducked out of sight. He made his way to a more protected position and scanned the mountainside for the men. Using a looking glass, he spotted one of the snipers perched in a thicket of pine trees upon the mountainside.

          “I’m warning you,” Bullseye yelled. “I got you in my sights. Surrender now.”

          The men laughed and Bullseye took aim, relaxed his breathing, and squeezed the trigger. Despite the sharp and constant pain in his shoulder from his still fresh bullet wound, Bullseye’s focus remained undaunted. Like the crack of a worn leather whip, one of the sniper’s was gone.

Bullseye stealthily moved through the trees to another position and scanned the mountain for the other two men.   

“Reggie?” one of the men asked. “Reggie, you get hit? Reggie?!” The silence was deafening as the men realized Reggie was a goner.

          Despite his wound, Bullseye was quick on the move and, through his looking glass, spotted the second sniper. The man had his gun in position, his eyes aflame, searching for Bullseye and hoping he could find him before he was found.

          “I got another of ‘yall in my sights,” Bullseye hollered. “Now, you ready to made a deal or are you ready to meet your Maker?”

          “You’re bluffin’,” the man hollered back his eyes still searching, but feeling more anxious.

“Don’t be a fool like your dead amigo. Surrender your weapon and take us to One-Eye. Final warning.”

          “Over my dead body,” the man hollered back. The man thought he was being brave, he thought he was calling Bullseye’s bluff, but he was only a damned fool. Bullseye, again ignoring the searing pain of his shoulder, squeezed the trigger that sent a hot piece of lead right through the man’s chest.

          The remaining third sniper surrendered immediately and subsequently escorted the men through the narrow opening and down a hidden pathway to where One-Eye’s men were camped out. When the river water was running low, usually during the colder months, an opening between two massive boulders was revealed that led to an enclosed area where the men would hide out and also be safe from the elements. It was there that the men had created a camp.

          Bullseye knew better than to just waltz into their camp unannounced; he had to play this smartly. If only he had more time, he thought as soft snowflakes began to descend all around. Then, an idea came to him, a risky idea, but one that just might work. He pulled out of his coat pocket a worn out and water-stained note pad and a dull pencil. Using the blade of his knife, he quickly sharpened the pencil and began to scribble out a letter.

          “You’re going to take this letter straight to One-Eye,” Bullseye ordered to the surrendered outlaw folding the paper into quarters. “You got that?”

          “Yeah, I heard you,” the man mumbled back.

          “You tell him he has exactly ten minutes to respond before we leave here, will all these supplies and you will freeze and starve. And when you do decide to emerge from your rat hole, we will be waiting to blow all your ugly carcasses to hell. Do you catch ma’ drift?”

          The man nodded and scurried off.

          “What did you put down on that letter?” one of his deputies asked.

          “I told him I wanted to make a deal, our people for the supplies.”

“Do you think it will work?” he asked.

“Na, that is why I also said that if he didn’t take my offer, I was calling him out to face me in a shootout, mano-e-mano.”

A somber feeling came over the deputies. “You know, he ain’t going to fight you fair if he does.”

“Yeah, I know that,” Bullseye replied. “But, I’ve got my tricks as well.”

          Ten minutes went by and the sniper came back with a note from One-Eye. “You’re on,” is all it read.

          Bullseye looked at the sniper with some confusion.

          “I am to take you to where he means to end you,” the sniper said.

          The snow was beginning to fall harder and sticking to the ground. Bullseye gave orders to his deputies to begin taking back the supplies to town immediately. Despite their pleas to stay by him, Bullseye said if they didn’t leave now, they’d soon be raided by Cody’s men and or stuck in the storm. The men, reluctantly, agreed and bid him good luck.

          Bullseye knew he could be ambushed or otherwise disposed of as he followed the outlaw deeper into the mountain but he pressed on. Then, up a head, in a clearing of trees he saw One-Eye, with his red patch and black bandana tied around his face, standing alongside three other Desert Rattlers. Unexpectedly, and to Bullseye’s grief, they also had Ruby tied up to a nearby pine tree.

          “Look what the cat dragged in,” One-Eye said slyly.

          “What’s Ruby doing here?” Bullseye growled.

          “Didn’t you know? Ruby ain’t her real name, partner.”

          Bullseye was confused. “What you playin’ at?”

          Cody and his men laughed and Ruby’s eyes looked down in shame.

          “This here is Janice McCormick, a starving and homeless immigrant from Ireland until I found her in Tennessee. I took her in, taught her everything she knows, and brought her out West. And how’d she show her appreciation? Nothing less than by betraying me.”

          “What are they talking about, Ruby?”

          One-Eye was enjoying the theatrics thoroughly.

          “Her expression is telling, ain’t it,” One-Eye remarked. “And she tells me, you and her been spending time together, that you’re sweet on her. How precious.”

          Bullseye didn’t respond, but spat out the side of his mouth.

          “Didn’t you know,” One-Eye continued. “This here is my woman.”

          Bullseye scoffed. “My woman never left me, never had to change her name. I never had to tie up my woman to stay by my side.”  

          One-Eye didn’t appreciate Bullseye’s insult. “The hell with you, you don’t know nuthin’!”

          “You sound awfully familiar…” Bullseye began. “Tennessee, you say?”

          One-Eye sneered. “What’s it to you?”

          “I’m from Tennessee,” Bullseye drawled.

           “The hell you are,” One-Eye replied.

          “The hell I am,” Bullseye retorted. “Pigeon Forge, as a matter of fact.”

          One-Eye spat on the ground. And then walked slowly towards Bullseye to get a closer look at his enemy.

          “Who are you?” he demanded gruffly.

          “The name is James Rogers, Colonel Rogers, that is, from the Union Army.”

           “Well, I’ll be damned,” One-Eye said shaking his head in surprise. “I should’ve figured you for a traitor, being Union and all.”

          “What’s your real name?” Bullseye asked back suspiciously.

          One-Eye removed the black bandana revealing a worn but strangely familiar face. Bullseye was at a loss of words. Standing in front of him was his older brother, Noah Roger, thought to have been killed during the war.

          “Noah?” Bullseye said in disbelief. “You’re supposed to be dead. I spoke to your commanding officer who verified as such.”

          “Yeah, well, I saw the writing on the wall and got out. I wasn’t going to be lynched once the Union won. Had I known Lincoln and Grant would have pardoned all Confederate Officers, well, things would have been different.”

           “Why didn’t you come home after the war, once you knew you’d be pardoned?”

          His brother didn’t answer and Bullseye could only assume he had already turned to out-lawing by then.

          This was quite the turn of events for Bullseye and the ramifications of Cody “One-Eye” being his kin had become much more complicated. Afterall, Bullseye was still the enemy, outnumbered, and standing in the way of the Deseret Rattlers. Bullseye also knew his brother, being the leader, couldn’t afford to lose the confidence of his men by being soft and allowing him any mercy. Furthermore, Bullseye knew, deep down, he couldn’t gun down his own brother which meant the likelihood of him getting out of there alive was, well, looking mighty improbable.

          By the expression upon One-Eye’s face, Bullseye knew his brother had come to the same conclusion.

          “I think we may have ourselves a sort of ‘Mexican standoff’,” One-Eye said. “Don’t you think boys?”

          One-Eye’s men cheered and pointed their cocked guns at Bullseye.

          Bullseye looked at his brother, who was eyeing him carefully. He then glanced around, noting four of One-Eye’s men. His eyes then glanced towards Ruby, who couldn’t bear to watch the scene unfold. There was only one way out now and it was going to get messy.

Bullseye fired his rifle at the closest outlaw who was standing at his left, blowing him off his feet. He then pivoted shooting another shot at the next closest outlaw, hitting him with a direct shot. Two were down now and three to go. He then pivoted again, but then, suddenly, a surge of force slammed him in the chest sending him backwards. Bullseye tumbled back, his rifle flung out into the air, and then everything went black.

The shot had come from One-Eye. His remaining men went to shoot-up Bullseye even more but One-Eye stopped them.

“Ain’t going to let you shoot up my brother’s body like that, boys. Although a traitor, he is still my brother. I’ll take care of it from here. Go check on Dan and Earl, see if they’re going to be okay.”

          The men holstered their guns and attended to the two men who’d been shot.

          One-Eye made his way over to Bullseye and kneeled down next to him, checking to make sure he was dead meat, or so it would seem. He leaned down close to Bullseye’s head.

          “Stay down, you sorry son-of-bitch,” he whispered. “I shot you where you ain’t going to die but you’ll have to get down this canyon tonight, you hear. You won’t make it if you don’t.”

          One-Eye pulled his gun out and shot-off another bullet, missing Bullseye, but sending a message to his men that he had ensured he’d been killed.

          The men Bullseye shot were in rough shape. One-Eye and his men quickly loaded them on horses and hauled them back to their camp leaving behind Ruby to freeze to death that night as punishment for her betrayal, or so the outlaws had thought.

          After the men had gone, Bullseye rolled over and slowly kneeled to the complete shock and utter astonishment of Ruby. He slowly made his way over to untie Ruby where she immediately helped nurse his second and newest bullet wound of the day.

          “We gotta get down the canyon, tonight,” he said to Ruby.

          “You’re in no position to move that far,” she said somberly. “Plus, the snow is getting too deep for us to walk through. We’ll have to figure out something else.”

            Once Bullseye had been patched up, in a way to stop the bleeding, Ruby immediately began searching for shelter and supplies to make a fire. As she did, she was surprised to hear a horse whinnying in the distance. As she followed the sound, she came upon one of the Deseret Rattler’s horses tied up under a tree. On the saddle was a rolled-up blanket, a fresh container of water, a little jerky meat, and a flask of whiskey. Oddly enough, the flask of whiskey had the name of “Noah” engraved upon it.

          Ruby brought the horse back to where Bullseye was laying and losing strength by the minute. She wrapped him in the blanket and gave him water to help replenish his body’s loss of blood and the whiskey to dull the pain. Together, they saddled the animal and made their way, through the thickening snow, back down the canyon. By the time they reached Stampede, later that night, Bullseye was unconscious and pale. Ruby fetched the local doctor who immediately began to treat him.

          The next morning was Christmas. Bullseye woke to the lovely face of Ruby River who was sitting in chair by his side.

          “Merry Christmas,” she said. “You made it, dear.”

          Bullseye smiled, weakly. “Yeah, thanks to you.”

          “Actually, thanks to your brother. He is the one who really saved your life yesterday.”

          Bullseye thought back to the scene. The details were still a little fuzzy but then he remembered his brother whispering in his ear, faking his death to his gang, and leaving behind Ruby with the horse and supplies that they both needed to get back home. It was, as it dawned upon him, a true act of mercy.

“He gave me mercy,” he said to Ruby.

Ruby nodded. “Mercy is at the very heart of Christmas. Jesus gave mercy to those closest to him as well as to his enemies.”

          A sunbeam flickered, reflecting off of something that caught his eye’s attention. He traced the sunbeam down to Ruby River’s hand. On it, she was wearing the engagement ring he’d been carrying in his front pocket.

          “Where did you get that?” Bullseye said, motioning to her finger.

“Don’t you remember?” she said with a warm smile. “You proposed to me.”

“I did?” he asked with some confusion. “When?”

“Under the tree when I was dressing your wounds,” she replied. “You pulled out the ring and said you’d been planning on proposing but, in case you didn’t survive the night, you asked me to marry you.” 

“And you said yes?” he asked.

“Yes, I said yes,” she said with a laugh.

“I had this whole thing planned for today,” he said. “I was going to take you-,”

“You told me all about it,” she replied. “You can take me there once you get your strength back. For now, just rest.”

Bullseye smiled and held the hand of his new finance, happy and content for the first time in a long time. But, alas, the moment was fleeting.

“The hostages! One-Eye still has hostages,” Bullseye exclaimed sitting up in a panic.

          Ruby rubbed his hand assuringly. “They’ll be okay, for now. Your brother will treat them fairly, trust me, I know.”

“But,” Bullseye protested.

 “Hush now, and rest. You’ll get them back. Don’t worry, of that I have no doubt.”

          Bullseye exhaled and then realized that the battle between him and Cody One-Eye was not yet over with, in fact, their escapades had just begun.

 

 Until the Next Adventure of Bullseye and Cody One-Eye…