A Cowboy's Remorse

a tale of the Old West

Texas Joe strode through the doorway

of the Oasis Hotel and Saloon.

His well-worn hat was pulled down low.

The time was half past noon.

Exhausted and coated with trail dust,

blistered and scorched a deep brown,

the cowboy was thirsty and hungry,

as he rode into the small desert town.

His leather boots clacked on the smooth wooden floor.

Wary eyes watched as he entered the room.

Old men played cards in a corner.

A young boy chased dirt with a broom.

He laid his .44 on the counter

then took out a worn pouch of snuff,

tucking a pinch inside of his lip

with fingers hard-calloused and rough.

“Gimme a whiskey,” he nodded

to the man who was tending the bar.

Tilting his hat on the back of his head,

to reveal a long jagged scar.

As he turned and leaned on the counter

to survey the near-empty room,

he heard the player piano

as it pumped a mechanical tune.

Gisele sang along with the music

in a dress of blue satin and silk.

Her red hair fell soft on her shoulders.

Her skin was the color of milk.

Joe tipped his hat her direction

just as his whiskey arrived.

Then slaked his thirst with one swallow;

glad to be at the end of his ride.

Weary from days in the saddle, he asked

“Where can I get me a bath and a shave?”

The barkeep looked up from the counter;

 “Right here” was the answer he gave.

“Jest go on through that there doorway

an’ take the stairs to the right.

Room 232 is the third on the left.

an’ costs 25 cents fer a night.

“The shave’s gonna cost ya a nickel.

The bath’s at the end of the hall.

Meals is served in the dinin’ room,”

he said in his thick southern drawl.

Texas Joe nodded agreement,

then, followed by curious stares,

pulled several coins from his pocket

and made his way up the stairs.

The next day he woke with the sunrise

and swung his legs over the bed.

The thought of Gisele in her blue satin dress

was the first thing that entered his head.

The day slowly passed into evening

and the little town greeted the moon.

Once again he found himself standing

at the bar in the dingy saloon.

He bought his drink and moved to a table,

then saw Gisele in a gold beaded gown.

He watched as she mingled and flirted

with the sots and the gamblers from town.

She didn’t let on that she saw him

as she sang her way ‘cross the room.

Then standing directly before him,

He caught just a whiff of perfume.

The scent seemed out of place in the barroom

with its whiskey, tobacco and flies.

“Ma’am, I’d be mighty pleased if you’d join me,”

he said, as he started to rise.

They sat a few minutes conversing.

The connection was sudden and strong.

Then a voice from the back interrupted:

“Hey, Gisele! How ‘bout singin’ a song!”

For a week, the scene was repeated

in the music-filled dusty saloon.

Until half past eight in the evening,

on Friday, the eighteenth of June.

It was then that Sheriff DeSoto

returned from his trip further West,

where he’d taken a prisoner for hanging,

a week after he’d made the arrest.

Texas Joe and Gisele didn’t notice,

when the Sheriff entered the place.

Or when he saw them seated together

and the look of pure hate on his face.

He knew the man in the corner,

by the long jagged scar on his face.

And all of the painful memories returned,

though he’d not seen him since ‘78.

The rest of the patrons had scattered

when the Sheriff came in the saloon.

His reputation was legend

and they figured the stranger was doomed.

When she finally saw him approaching

she felt the tiniest flicker of fear.

For the Sheriff had been Gisele’s lover,

for nearly six months and a year.

Texas Joe stood with his hands in plain sight,

the Sheriff put his hand on his gun.

“Gisele’s this bastard been botherin’ you?”

“Naw, we were just havin’ some fun.”

“Go on upstairs and wait for me there.

I’ll be up as soon as I’m done.

I got some old business to tend to

but don’t let it worry you none.”

Gisele knew it was useless to argue.

An excuse would be pointless to give.

You won’t interfere with the Sheriff,

unless you don’t care if you live.

“I heard me an interestin’ story

as soon as I got back in town.

‘bout a fella who’s spendin’ a whole lotta time

in the bar when Gisele is around.

“You gotta be crazy walkin’ in here,”

said the Sheriff as he fingered his gun.

“I oughta just shoot you right where you stand,

and let this whole business be done.”

“I know that there’s bad blood between us,” said Joe,

“but I’m hoping you’ll just hear me out.

I’ve come with some news ‘bout Eliza,

which may cause you some pain there’s no doubt.”

Sheriff DeSoto eased the grip on his gun

and spat on the floor in disgust.

“I guess shootin’ a bastard can wait for a bit;

it ain’t like my bullets will rust.

“I been waitin’ 8 years,” said the Sheriff,

“to face the man who ran off with my wife.

I can’t think of a single good reason

why you shouldn’t pay with your life.”

“Eliza was thrown from her horse in the Spring,

an’ died before help could arrive.

I swear I did all that I could,” Joe went on,

“in tryin’ to keep her alive.

“Now the rest of this business ain’t easy to tell,

but after we went on the run,

durin’ a terrible blizzard,

Eliza gave birth to a son.

“She never said nuthin’ about it.

An’ I never paid it much mind.

But it didn’t take more’n a couple a years

to see that the boy wasn’t mine.

“I never let on my suspicions;

wouldn’t do any good if I did.

Jest cause a whole lot of problems,

an’ it might make it hard on the kid.

“Jesse is 8; looks exactly like you,

he’s got the same eyes an’ blond hair.

Got his Ma’s easy laugh an’ musical gift.

Even won him a prize at the Fair.”

The Sheriff was silent as he took it all in;

not quite sure how to react.

Though surprised by the news that he now had a son,

he wasn’t convinced of the fact.

“I can see by yer face that yer havin’ some doubt

‘bout the truth in the story I told.

But why would I come all this way with a lie,

knowin’ you could just drop me cold?

“There’s just a bit more to the story,

then you can decide what to do.

‘bout six weeks ago, I saw Doc MacLean

an’ he said that my days are ‘bout through.

“I ain’t had much time to sort it all out,

but one thing’s for absolute sure:

I don’t wanna leave Jesse all by hisself,

orphaned, alone, an’ dirt poor.

“It took me a while to come up with a plan

to maybe fix what I tried to destroy.

I’m hopin’ you got enough love in your heart

to look after an’ care for the boy.

“I left him with friends in El Paso,

but he doesn’t know why I’m away.

I’ve drawn a map on this paper,

to help ya in findin’ your way.

“When my time’s up, an’ I’ve gone to my grave

someone will get word to you.

All arrangements are made, in case you agree.

Fetching Jesse is all you need do.

“There’s just one more thing that I gotta clear up,

what with all you heard about me an’ Gisele.

But I swear on the grave of Eliza,

or may my soul go directly to hell.

“When at first I laid my eyes on ‘er,

was like lightnin’ went off in my head.
With her milky white skin, an’ her long auburn hair,

I thought Eliza’d rose from the dead.

“Gisele was jest keepin’ me comp’ny

while I waited for you to return.

She always behaved like a lady.

You ain’t got no cause for concern.”

The Sheriff stood in stunned silence,

with the small piece of paper in hand.

The rest of the patrons watched from outside

in a tight little curious band.

(They had themselves all set for bloodshed,

based on events of the past.

Whenever the Sheriff was threatened,

the gunfire followed real fast!)

“Your takin’ away the woman I loved,

was like somebody sucked out my breath.

Killing you now is too easy;

you’ll suffer more with a lingerin’ death.”

Knowing there wasn’t much more he could say.

Texas Joe turned and walked out the door.

Left with the thought that he now had a son,

the Sheriff just stared at the floor.

He stood there just for a moment,

then made his way up to Gisele.

When she opened the door, he said “Better sit down,

I got a long story to tell.

“I know that you wasn’t cheatin’

though I admit that it did cross my mind.

But you never before gave me reason to doubt,

so I know you was just bein’ kind.

“At first I didn’t believe him;

the risk that he took was immense!

Was a very good chance I’d just shoot him.

It just wouldn’t make any sense.

“By the time he finished his story,

I was convinced that it wasn’t a lie.

And knowing the kid’ll be left all alone,

Well, do you see how I can’t just sit by?

“Me an’ Joe made an arrangement

that will considerably alter our life.

We can go see the preacher tomorrow,

if you’ll agree to bein’ my wife.”

It wasn’t much more than four or five weeks

when he got word that the cowboy was dead.

“Joseph Calhoun was buried today”

was all that the telegram said.

The next day at sunrise, the couple set out

on the trip to get Jesse Calhoun.

Keeping the promise made in the bar

of the Oasis Hotel and Saloon.

The End