“The things we’ll do for art!” Cy said. “Yeah, sadly, I’m Mean Bill Jenkins and Brian gets to play Savage Sam Osterly. And Osterly outdrew Jenkins.”
Henri Coque was back at his podium. “Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, make way, if you please! Not long after the lynching of Aaron Munson, the streets of Lily grew even wilder! Sheriff Fogerty struggled to hold on to a deputy, but men were afraid in Lily. He did his best to protect the law, and he turned a blind eye to the men who fought in the streets. On January 17, 1873, two of the meanest, most vicious outlaws ever to come to town met on Main Street, right here, ready to duel it out. They say it was over a chorus girl from the saloon.”
As he spoke, Cy walked out onto the street and waved to the crowd.
For a moment, Jane was distracted. She turned to look back at the Gilded Lily.
There was definitely someone at her bedroom window.
“Mean Bill Jenkins fought on the Union side during the war. He was something of a hero when he was with his Indiana unit at Gettysburg, or so the history books tell us,” Henri said.
Jane turned back to watch the action.
Cy raised his hat, smiled proudly and bowed to the audience—among them, many admiring women.
“But,” Henri announced, “when the war was over, he took up with a group of Kentucky Rebels and Yanks—and they weren’t the kind who robbed banks nicely and kept from killing people. Not like our dashing Trey Hardy!”
Cy paused midsmile and frowned at Henri.
“Sorry,” Henri said as an aside, bringing a rise of laughter from the crowd. “Mean Bill Jenkins was as mean as they got! Oh, yeah, mean and vicious, through and through.”
The temptation to look back was strong. Jane did so. The ghost of Sage McCormick remained. She was staring at Jane. She shook her head; her ghostly hand slammed against the window.
What the hell was she trying to say?
“Yes,” Henri Coque repeated, “mean and vicious, through and through.”
Cy shrugged, and made fists of his hands.
“So,” Henri continued, “on this day, late in the afternoon, after both men were liquored up, Mean Bill challenged Savage Sam to a duel!”
Behind Henri, Valerie raised a sign that told the audience to say “Oooh!”
The audience complied.
“Now Savage Sam...” Henri paused as Brian stepped out onto the road, “was a man who kowtowed to no government!”
Brian stood straight and accepted the cheers of the crowd.
“No, he was just a vicious killer.”
It was Brian’s turn to stare at Henri.
“Hey, that’s history!” Henri told him.
Brian sighed and his shoulders slumped, but then he, too, straightened and twisted his lips in a sneer.
“Yes, friends, it was over the love of a woman!”
“Me! Me!” Valerie said, rushing forward.
“No, it would be over me!” Alice argued, pushing her way into view.
“Sorry, the identity of the woman was never written down in the history books. She was just one of many bawdy-house women plying their trade in Lily,” Henri said.
“Oh, let’s see—bawdy woman. That would be you!” Valerie said sweetly to Alice. Alice drew back her arm as if she was going to throw a punch. Mike Addison slipped quickly between them. “Hey, the duel was between the men!”
“No, let’s have a catfight!” someone yelled from the crowd.
There was a lot of laughter at that. When it calmed down, Henri said, “The men asked Sheriff Fogerty himself to call the duel. Oh, wait, that’s me!” He walked down from the podium and stood between the men on the street. “Twenty paces, men.”
The duel progressed. As it did, the amusement Jane had been feeling began to fade.
They were actors, she reminded herself. Playing with blanks.
“Twenty paces!” Henri called again.
Brian and Cy made faces at each other and turned to walk their paces.
“And now...” Henri said.
Both men stood still, forty feet from each other.
“Ready!” Henri called.
They swung around.
Jane looked back at the window. Sage remained there, shaking her head.
She wanted the duel stopped. Why? Did she know something?
Jane was terrified that if the duel went through, someone was really going to die.
“Aim!” Henri shouted.
It was quite possibly one of the stupidest things she’d ever done, but she couldn’t stop the abject fear that swept through her.
She burst out into the middle of the road between the men, arriving a split second before Henri could call, “Fire!”
“Wait! Wait!” she shouted. She had no idea where’d go from there, but she started speaking, saying whatever came to mind. “People died back then because they weren’t smart enough just to have a conversation. Now we’re living in a new time, a new day—and I’m sure you gentlemen are smart enough to have a conversation and work it all out!”
She looked back and forth between Cy and Brian; they stared at her blankly and then looked at Henri. Henri frowned at Jane, then shrugged.