From Drew Blood: Part 3 finds our hero settling into town- and being the object of much curiosity. A violent confrontation with Henr...
From Drew Blood:
Part 3 finds our hero settling into town- and being the object of much curiosity. A violent confrontation with Henry Stockton’s violent thugs has Montana confused about the motives of town enforcer Sam Arkin. Jess Stockton is making quite the impression on Montana- a distraction he doesn’t need if he wants to maintain a low profile. While Henry Stockton surely has a vision for his town, Montana is beginning to suspect Sam Arkin is the true architect for the tournament…
Montana suspected Sam Arkin was more the architect for this tournament than Henry Stockton. The tournament was designed to please the spectator. The time was rushed. Thirty minutes was barely enough time to even get started. And having a draw eliminate both competitors ensured an aggressive pace.
The aggressive pace didn’t bother Montana. He felt it was to his advantage. Some of the older competitors who relied on exploiting a mistake or wearing out an opponent over time would be off their game. Wrestlers who relied on patience would have to change from a defensive to offensive strategy- and that was an entirely different skill set. Sam looked to be a quick and aggressive wrestler. Surely, this was to benefit his own style against larger and more methodical opponents.
“Thanks, Jack. You did real good.” Jack seemed pleased and looked around at Montana’s training layout. Montana followed Jack’s eyes around the room and finally asked, “Do you want to train with me today?”
Jack nodded eagerly. “No wrestling,” said Montana, “just exercise.” Jack looked a little sad, but conceded. Montana resumed his training, with Jack eagerly mimicking beside him.
After the workout, Montana sent Jack away and got dressed. He went over to the window and sat down, watching the street and remembering the layout of the town. There was a slight cool breeze drifting through the window. He rocked back in his chair and enjoyed the quiet until a soft tapping at his door. He sighed and then decided to ignore it.
“Montana?” It was Jess Stockton. Montana mumbled to himself, deciding whether or not to answer the door. He stood finally and went over and unlatched the door. Jess stood there in a violet dress holding a small jar and two short glasses from the bar. “Martha makes it. It’s strong, but it goes down alright,” she laughed.
“Can I come in?” She smiled at Montana and started to gently push her way by him. He looked past her to see who else was watching. The bar downstairs sounded fairly empty and he didn’t notice any extra eyes. He allowed himself to be gently pushed out of the way.
Jess came and looked around the room. She noted her surprise it stayed so clean. Not like the usual man’s room, or so she heard. She was much more light-hearted than the night previous. She studied the room and then made her way over to one of the chairs by the window. Before sitting, she pulled the small breakfast table between the chairs and opened the bottle and poured two glasses. She looked at Montana and gestured for him to sit down.
“Sam tells me your father was a great wrestler.”
“Yes.”
“My father wants Sam to figure out some way to keep you out of the tournament. A technicality, nothing physical. He wants to kick you and that other man from the bar out for fighting before the tournament. You know, the other guy you beat up.” She laughed.
Montana did not look amused. Someone had mentioned that right before he took the man down. “He came at me first.”
Jess did not look worried. “It’s fine. Sam talked him out of it. But he did give me two hundred dollars and told me to offer it to you. To just leave.” Montana did not move.
“He did. Did you bring it?”
“I didn’t,” Jess responded. “I figured you would turn it down…I hope that you’ll turn it down.”
Montana shook his head. He was confused. “Listen, I don’t want any games. Do you work for your father or don’t you?”
“Do you want the money, Montana?”
He looked hard at her. She was looking right back. He had never met anyone like her. She was obviously still young, but nothing about her was immature. No matter who her father was, Jess Stockton had a mind of her own. And seemed to get prettier with each glance.
“No, I don’t. But, I don’t understand-.”
Jess cut him off. “I want the tournament to be fair. I want you to win- I want you to have the chance to win. Everything in this town is rigged in favor of my father. I want someone to beat the house. I want to know someone can win besides him. I think you can.”
Montana was silent for a moment. “Do you hate him?”
Jess shook her head. “No, I don’t hate him. We’ve never been close. He has never acted like a father. I know there are rumors he is not my father at all. If you get certain people drunk enough, they’ll blunder through some kind of wild story. The older I get, the more I think it may be true.”
“Why is that?”
Jess shrugged. Surprisingly, it didn’t seem to bother her to talk about it. “From what I can gather, my mother was very young. He seldom speaks of her. Still, he raised me. Despite his faults, he has taken care of me.”
“Tell me about him.”
Jess informed him of Henry Stockton.
Henry Stockton had little interest in mining claims and even less interest in the work involved digging it out. Stockton was interested in building and controlling towns. He was born poor, but used his first few dollars to buy a claim and realized there was more money selling the claim than in mining it. He had built several boom towns throughout Texas and Arizona over the last thirty years, but none had lasted long. Livings was different. Livings had yet to peak. Henry Stockton learned that in order to make a town survive, you had to find something that would last past the gold.
Stockton was not a rough man, but he could be ruthless. And he knew how to manipulate men. He could command a group of miners with the snap of his fingers. He had a keen understanding of what motivated simple men: money and a feeling of importance. He could draw on these things and count on these men to complete the dirty work.
