Times change, people don't. Even a bounty hunter can have a 'change of heart'.
Seventeen-year-old Mary Ransom stood on the porch of her parent’s farm house facing mortal fear for the first time in her life. Her mother and father, Reverend Elijah and Ellie Ransom, were holding each other in the doorway. At the sound of horses in their yard, all had come to welcome the travelers to their out-of-the-way farm, to offer the hospitality the Lord demanded of His people.
If the Good Lord had anything to do with the Coulter brothers, Abe and Lem, it had been years before they had become bank robbers and killers. On the run for many days, Abe and Lem had just robbed the town bank and were looking for fresh horses to continue their spree. Unknown to the Ransoms, Mr. Court, the bank’s teller, lay dead behind his counter.
“Well, lookie here, Lem,” Abe drooled, “a right purdy Missy all set to welcome us.” Abe’s face was set in a terrible leer.
Mary went cold inside. There was no mistaking the way these two dirty men were looking at her. Sweet Jesus, she thought, please deliver us from this evil!
Abe was holding a Colt .44 on Mary while Lem covered the Ransoms with a shotgun. Both men had avoided shaving for months and bathing for days and the smell from their bodies equaled the darkness of their hearts. Abe started to step up on the porch when a voice rang out behind them.
“Freeze, Coulter, or die in your tracks!”
The Coulters turned as one to greet the threat behind them, guns leveled, slack taken out of the triggers.
They saw what they hadn’t heard while concentrating on the Ransoms. A tall man wearing a black duster, open at the front and pulled back on the right side to reveal a holstered pistol. They could see little else because of the afternoon sun behind the man.
Lem wasn’t about to wait and find out who the stranger was. He pulled both triggers on his shotgun, and the last thing he saw in this world was a flashing draw and powder bloom from the man’s pistol as a bullet smacked him square in the chest. Partially covered by Lem’s falling body, Abe leaped up onto the porch and grabbed Mary, placing the barrel of his pistol against the side of her head. Even through her paralyzing fear she smelled the stench of him, of death.
“Drop it, or the girl dies!” Abe shouted, his own fear evident in his voice.
“Then you’ll die next, Coulter,” the man simply said.
Abe’s thumb moved to cock the hammer on his .44. Another powder bloom from the stranger’s pistol tore Abe from Mary and backward against the wall of the house, his slumping body leaving a red smear on the whitewash.
Realizing that she was safe, Mary dropped to her knees crying and praising the Lord as her parents rushed to her side. Seeing that all was well they looked toward the stranger in gratitude only to see him lying on the ground. They ran to his side and found the front of him covered in blood, the result of Lem’s shotgun. Mary knelt and held his head in her lap, staring into the most beautiful greenish brown eyes she had ever seen.
The stranger struggled to speak. “I got them both?” He asked in a whisper.
“Yes,” said Mary.
The stranger’s eyes closed and his body went limp.
“Quick, let’s get him inside,” Elijah said, scooping his arms under the stranger’s. With the women taking his legs, the man was carried to Mary’s bed. Mary was pushed outside while her parents undressed him and attempted to doctor his wounds.
Mary went out on the porch, careful to not look at the two dead brothers. She was deciding whether to ride into town for the doctor when she saw several horses approaching. As they got nearer Mary recognized the Sheriff and several townsmen.
The Sheriff rode up and dismounted in a cloud of dust, a question dying on his lips as he saw the two bodies. Confirming who they were, he turned to Mary. “What happened?”
Mary shuddered as she remembered. “These two men had guns and God only knows what they were going to do to us. Then another man, a stranger, saved us in a gunfight. He was hurt and mother and Papa are working on him inside.”
The Sheriff went into the house while the townsmen gathered up the Coulters, wrapped the bodies in their ground cloths and tied them to their horses. Abe Perkins wanted all of the gory details but Mary just wanted to forget the horror.
When the Sheriff returned, Mary rushed to him. “How is he? Who is he?”
The Sheriff took off his hat and wiped the sweat band with his handkerchief. “He’s as good as dead, took a load of shot in the stomach, but I’ll send out Doc Elder anyway.” He looked under his bushy white eyebrows at the trembling girl and softened a little. “He’s no good, Mary. He’s little better than those two men. This is probably the best thing he’s ever done, but he didn’t do it for you.”
“How can you say that? He saved our lives!” Mary questioned in a strong voice.
The Sheriff put his hat back on and looked at Mary with cold eyes. “He’s a bounty hunter, Mary. He makes his living by hunting down and maybe killing men for the reward. That’s why he did it.”
Mary was stunned but still asked, “Who is he?”
The Sheriff paused, but said, “He goes by the name of Gideon.”
***
That evening, Mary took her turn at the prayer watch. Under the dim glow of a lowered lamp she prayed as she had never prayed before between sessions of wiping his brow with a cool cloth. Doc Elder said that Gideon would develop a fever and that it would finish him, but Mary refused to believe that with every fiber of her being. Doc had pried seven lead balls from Gideon’s body, pronouncing each one as the one that would kill him.
“Heavenly Father, giver and taker of life, please spare this man for the good he has done for us. The Bible says that You once raised up a Gideon to smite Your enemies, isn’t it possible You did so again? If I can feel the good in this man, surely You can, too?”
Mary felt herself blush. It wasn’t entirely his goodness she felt but also a tugging of her heart. His hazel eyes, almost golden, when she had last seen them were burned into her memory. As she wiped his face she studied it, so grimly handsome, yet there were laugh lines around his eyes. That Gideon had an iron courage was undisputable, for she had seen him face two men, yet she sensed a softness in him, the gentleness that comes through strength.
The Ransoms continued their vigil of prayer and care, never doubting the power of the Lord should He see fit to spare the gunman’s life. On the third day, Gideon awoke.
It was Mary’s turn to care for him and as she turned back from rinsing the cloth in cool water, she was suddenly staring into the golden eyes she dreamed about. Startled, she gasped and dropped the cloth.
“You . . . . You’re awake! Praise the Lord!”
“I’m not so sure of that,” Gideon said in a raspy, barely audible voice, “for I see an angel.”
Mary blushed bright red.
“On the other hand,” he continued, closing his eyes again, “angels ain’t for the likes of me.”
“Oh, don’t go back to sleep, you need to eat something,” Mary countered.
Gideon forced his eyes open, but they were unfocused.
“I’ll get you something to eat,” Mary promised as she rose and left the room.
With great effort Gideon tried to focus both his eyes and his thoughts. He had followed the Coulter brothers to a farm and braced them, and there had been gunplay the pain in his guts told him. Things must have worked out for everyone but him. He steeled himself against the pain. Soft bed, frilly curtains, this must be the angel’s room.
Three people flooded into the room and around his bed, the angel and an older couple, probably the angel’s parents. They immediately engaged in an impromptu prayer meeting, thanking the Lord for his life. It was his turn to be embarrassed.
“I’m Reverend Ransom and this is my wife, Ellie, and daughter Mary and we thank you, too, for our lives,” the older man said.
Mary . . . The angel’s name was Mary.
The Reverend helped Gideon sit up and he gritted his teeth against the pain, hoping to not show it in his face. Ellie had a wonderfully aromatic bowl of beef soup that made his stomach rumble. He accepted the bowl and tried to bring a spoonful of soup to his lips, but his hand trembled too much.
“Here, let me do it,” Mary said, taking the bowl and sitting beside him, scooping up a spoonful and guiding it to his lips.
“Maybe we shouldn’t feed him yet,” Elijah offered. “The Doc said his guts are full of holes, the source of infection.”
“Papa,” Mary answered, “either we believe the Lord healed him or not. The Doc said he would be dead long before now, and he’s still alive. Who do we believe?”
Reverend Elijah patted his daughter’s shoulder. “You’re right, Mary, we must believe.”
Everyone was silent as Gideon swallowed the first few spoonfuls of broth, almost as if they expected it to come leaking out of his stomach. When it didn’t, smiles appeared as he kept accepting the soup. On every spoonful, his eye’s locked on Mary’s blue ones.
The Reverend left the room at the sound of horses in the yard and returned with Doc Elder and the Sheriff.
“I was on my way out to the Dirksen’s to deliver another baby and thought I’d stop by and see if Elijah read the last rites,” Doc said with a wink. He removed Gideon’s dressing, probed a bit, then redressed. “Well, young man, you either have an iron constitution or an angel on your side. It appears you will live long enough to make a fool out of me. That’ll be two dollars.”
Gideon shoved his hand under the covers and discovered he wasn’t wearing pants. Before he could ask about their whereabouts, the Sheriff threw a wad of bills on the bed.
“Here, take it out of your blood money! Five hundred for each brother.”
An angry rebuttal formed on Mary’s lips, but she took a deep breath and asked, “Sheriff, why do you hate this man so?”
“It’s not him personally, it’s his kind. If I captured those two and brought them to trial I’d just get my forty dollars per month and found. He brings them back over their horses he gets one thousand dollars. I do it because it’s my job, he does it because he likes to kill!”
Gideon had located his pants across a chair. Pointing he asked, “Would someone get ten dollars out of my pocket for the Doc? I reckon he earned it. Also a ten for the Sheriff, to cover the costs of the burial.”
“Keep your blood money, the county will bury them.”
“I always give the burial money,” Gideon said, through clenched teeth.
“Does it ease your conscious some?”
“I did my job, Sheriff. They were in your town first, why didn’t you do yours?”
The Sheriff was gripped with anger. He started to step forward and then remembered the circumstances. “Go to blazes,” he shouted, then remembered the ladies. “Beg pardon,” he said, touching the brim of his hat then leaving the room with an angry wake.
“Probably,” Gideon muttered, closing his eyes again.
“I’ll take my ten,” the Doc chimed in with another wink. “A lot of folks can’t pay; I’ll take advantage of those who can.”
The Reverend reached into the pants and pulled out a wad of bills, two hundred dollars at a quick count, more cash money than he had held for many years, never mind the bills on the bed. He found a ten and gave it to the doctor.
“You should have the rest of that, Reverend, for your kindness,” Gideon offered.
Elijah looked him in the eye. “What we did was Christian duty, son, we don’t accept money for that which we are duty-bound to provide.” He put the rest of the money back in the pocket.
“Then consider it a donation to your church.”
Sadness crossed Elijah’s face. “I don’t have a church.” He turned and left the room, Ellie following.
Gideon looked up at Mary. “I guess I stepped in it. I was just trying to make things right. Money don’t mean that much to me.”
“Then why are you a bounty hunter?” Mary asked, offering another spoonful of broth.
He wasn’t hungry anymore, but if he refused Mary might leave, and he suddenly found that he very much wanted her to stay. He wondered how much to tell her without scaring her away.
“My mother died of the fever when I was three. My father was a riverboat gambler and there was always a woman about to take care of me when he worked. There ain’t much for a three-year-old to do on a sternwheeler, so I snuck in and watched my daddy work. He used cards to teach me my numbers and to this day I can add to twenty-one in a heartbeat.” When she didn’t laugh, he continued. “One day when I was about six he saw me building a bottom deck and shuffling off the bottom. He walloped me good for even thinking of cheating, and for good measure shipped me off to my Uncle Ben who had a cattle ranch in the New Mexico Territory. I grew up punching cows except for the times Pa came to take me with him for awhile. It was a good life until a man my Pa exposed for a card cheat waited around and shot him in the back. By the time word got to me, the trail was pretty cold. My Pa may have been a gambler, but he was the most honest man I ever knew. It galled me, the injustice of it, and finally I bade Uncle Ben goodbye and set out to find my Father’s killer. It took me two years to find the man and I gave him more chance than he gave my Pa. The law wanted to hang me but I was able to prove he was the killer because he stole my Pa’s pocket watch and still had it.”
Gideon took another spoonful of broth. Mary was silent and wide-eyed. “You’d be surprised how word gets around and it wasn’t long until I was unwelcome about everywhere, just like here. There is a saying that ‘when you set out for revenge, first dig two graves’. It seems all I’m good for is chasing down the killers the local law can’t find. I expect you good folks will get shut of me the first chance you get, I expect that, so don’t worry when the time comes. I’ll be ready to ride in a few days and I’ll just go.”
Mary gave him the last of the broth. “You mustn’t think like that, we’re not that way. The Lord brought you to us, and that’s that.” She stood and gathered up the money and put it his pants pocket. “With this kind of money, why don’t you buy some cattle and land and build something, like your Uncle Ben?”
“I’ve thought of that, but when you build something, it’s for somebody else, and I have just myself. Who would I leave it to?”
“You might marry.”
“What decent woman would want a killer? No, best I keep going down this road until I fill that second grave.” Exhausted, Gideon closed his eyes and quickly fell asleep.
Mary went out on the porch and sat in the rocking chair. It was a moonless night and the stars stretched from horizon to horizon, millions of twinkling diamonds almost close enough to grasp.
Lord, this man has such strength of character, though it be misplaced. If he knew You as I do, he might have a change of heart. I know that I cannot ask for that, but I do humbly pray that You would reveal Yourself to him, give him the chance I know that You have promised for everyone.
Her prayer finished, Mary continued to wonder at the beauty God had provided for her enjoyment for this night. There was the Little Dipper pouring hope into the big one, Orion’s belt with scabbard, mighty warrior . . .
Mighty Warrior, Gideon, are there no stars for you? No golden eyes to look down upon me and give me peace? Am I just being a silly girl to have a crush on the first handsome stranger to ride into my life? The Stallings’ boy seemed interested in me at the last church social, but he never rode out to visit, which was just as well. He’s a good boy, but rather timid. Is Gideon the kind of man my mother warned me against? A handsome man that won’t stay? Jesus, where do I find the answers to the questions of my heart?
***
The next morning Mary brought Gideon a big breakfast of beef, potatoes and eggs and then left him to eat. As he was finishing the repast, he heard horses in the yard and mildly wondered where his guns were, returning to old habits.
Mary appeared in the doorway with some clothes. “I’ve washed your trousers but your shirt was ruined. I dug another one out of your saddlebags. If you feel up to it, I’ve hitched our wagon up for a ride in the fresh air, something that’ll do you good. I’ve even made a picnic lunch if we get hungry.”
Mary blushed at her forwardness but she was determined to at least make an effort. What if he said, ‘no’?
Gideon’s smile was every bit as beautiful as she thought it would be. He took the clothes and Mary left the room. He felt a little dizzy at standing but it felt good to be dressed and on his feet again. He looked around the room for his holster but didn’t see it. He felt almost naked without it. When he opened the door and asked for it, he saw the disappointment in Mary’s eyes.
“It’s here,” she said, kneeling at the bureau and opening the bottom drawer. “But will you need it?”
“I needed it a few days ago, what’s changed?” Gideon asked gently, reaching for it then slinging the gun belt around his narrow hips.
Gideon handed Mary into the buckboard and then climbed in beside her. He took the reins, slapped them and moved the wagon out of the yard. Mary acted as guide, pointing out the extent of ranch as the hours passed and they came to a large pond around noon. Gideon stopped the buckboard in the shade of an overhanging elm and dismounted, helping her down. Mary spread the blanket she had brought under the tree and bade him to sit on it and lean against the tree. She opened her lunch basket of fried chicken and muffins, and after saying Grace (he was silent) they began to eat.
As Gideon munched on the chicken his eyes had a faraway look and Mary wished that she could see his thoughts. Her wish was granted when he finished his meal and looked her in the eyes.
“That’s the best meal I’ve had since I left the ranch.”
Mary acknowledged the compliment by inclining her head. “I made it just for you,” she said, blushing slightly.
He smiled back. “You’ll make a man mighty lucky, in many ways, someday.”
Mary fussed with the basket so that he couldn’t see her face.
“This ranch is about as perfect as it can be, good grass, plenty of water, why so few cattle?”
Mary finished packing the basket. “My father is an ordained Minister, not a cattleman. The Lord led him to give up his church in Ohio and move to this land. We don’t know why, and we don’t question God’s wisdom, but it took our whole savings to put a down payment on it. We had a foreman who was more interested in robbing us than running the ranch, but we have managed to hold onto it by the skin of our teeth and the Grace of God.”
Gideon nodded and looked out upon the land. “You folk’s set store by God, don’t you?”
“Don’t you?”
“When I was little, my aunt and uncle would take me to Sunday meeting until I learned to make excuses not to go. Seemed to be a lot of folks just sittin’ and awishin’ and not much getting done. I prayed my Father’s killer would be brought to justice, but I guess He didn’t hear me. So I up and did it myself.”
“God answers every prayer. Sometimes the answer is ‘no’. You have to leave it in God’s hands.”
“Well, no matter, I’m sure He’s washed His hands of me now.”
“The Grace of God to forgive is immeasurable.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
For the rest of the outing, Gideon seemed cool and preoccupied. Mary had not known what to expect from it, but had hoped for some sign that Gideon might be interested in her. It almost seemed that God was coming between them, a sign that maybe this man was not for her. But those eyes!
That night, Gideon talked with her father, trying to get him to take some money for his help, but Reverend Ransom steadfastly refused.
The next morning, Gideon was gone.
***
Gideon rode through the morning and most of the afternoon without stopping. He had no particular place to go, no pressing business, and no one was waiting to see him. Or was there? Mary Ransom sure seemed interested, at least as far as his limited experience with women told him, but a girl that dedicated to God would surely not be interested in him. He had killed men, men who needed killing surely, but he tried to avoid it whenever possible. Nevertheless, he believed that God had left him on his own and he would surely die that way.
Still, he briefly daydreamed about a different life, a life with a woman like Mary, and the joys it would hold, coming home to her each night instead of a cold camp on the trail to vengeance. Maybe even children. He shook his head to clear it of this nonsense. He had chosen his life; he should get on with it.
It was way after dark when he saw the camp fire in the distance. Normally he would avoid contact with other people, but he no matter which way he turned, the fire was always in front of him. He rode up and dismounted.
“Hello the fire,” Gideon called out, not wishing to be shot by a nervous hand.
“Come on in, and welcome, Gideon,” a clear, deep voice said.
It wasn’t until he stepped into a bright light that he realized that he had been called by name.
***
Mary was churning milk when she heard a horse and looked up to see Gideon riding into the yard. Wiping her trembling hands on her apron, she went to greet him, trying to keep her hopes from exploding into flame.
“I’m sorry I left without saying ‘goodbye’, Mary, I ask your forgiveness.”
“As God forgives, so do I,” she said, breathlessly.
“Would you call your father out, I have something to say to everyone.”
Mary went inside and returned with her parents.
“Reverend Ransom,” Gideon said, reaching into an inside pocket of his duster, “here is the deed to your ranch, paid in full. Since you refused money from me I figured I’d do it this way, so you can’t refuse. In return I ask two things; that you hire me as foreman for this ranch and I promise I’ll turn it into the gold mine it is. I ask no wages, instead that I earn a partnership at whatever time you decide.”
Elijah Ransom looked at the deed, closed his eyes for a few moments and then looked at Gideon. “Done, Gideon,” he said with a smile, “but half of nothing is nothing.”
“I have wired my Uncle Ben for five hundred head of cows and one of his prize bulls, paid for and to be delivered in two months, about as much time as it will take me to string fences and clean out ponds.”
A rogue breeze blew Gideon’s duster open and all could see that he wore no gun.
“A change of mind, son?” Ransom asked about the missing pistol.
“Let’s say I traded it for a new life. Speaking of that, the town preacher has moved on and the town is looking for a new one. Know anyone who might fill that opening?” Gideon asked with amusement.
Elijah looked at Ellie and gave her a big hug. “I might at that. But, you said two things. What’s the other?”
Gideon reached for Mary’s hands and held them as surely as he held her eyes. “That you allow me to court your daughter, unless she has other ideas?” His breath caught as he waited for his answer.”
“You have my permission, son, for what it’s worth, but the decision is Mary’s.”
“Well?” Gideon asked, still not daring to breathe.
Mary dropped her eyes, and then raised them to stare boldly into the golden eyes she so adored. “Why the change of heart?”
“Well,” Gideon said, “let’s just say I met an angel.”
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