NOVEL NEXT chapter 11 - Holiday
Those bastards are spooked stiff.
A ridiculous count: one against twenty.
Yet the one was dominating the place.
The California Rangers had learned from witnesses that Max was a hell of a speed shooter.
The bullet buried dead center in Murrieta’s forehead proved it.
It wasn’t just a feeling that six rounds would be flying his way.
Do I just blow him away? Ha. Goddamn bastard.
Harry Love, captain of the Rangers, felt like death warmed over.
If he pushed hard, one of those bullets would come for him; if he backed off, he’d lose face in front of his men.
Right. I came to make a deal.
He was here for money, not to kill—wasn’t he?
Having rationalized himself, Harry Love let his voice come out like a man of stature.
“Overconfidence brings trouble.”
“The first round is going straight into your forehead.”
Ha. Clueless bastard.
Back to the bargaining, then.
Harry Love worked his lips and glared at Max.
For a moment, the place went still.
Every taut edge of feeling pointed at the bounty. The staring match to pry out better terms dragged on.
As long as I’ve made them nervous, that’s enough.
Max decided this was exactly the time to negotiate.
My bottom line is a thousand dollars.
A consolation to the California Rangers who’d busted their backs chasing Murrieta.
And a settlement that wouldn’t leave them with a grudge or a thirst for revenge—one thousand was about right.
With the mood like this, it’ll fly.
Just as Max was about to start dealing with Harry Love—
“How about this instead.”
Someone cut in, just like that.
Holiday, the man from the square.
He came in with his men and appeared in the yard.
Behind the inn.
Around the shabby barn, thirty armed men blew out a gloomy pressure like a sky packed with storm clouds.
****
“The California Rangers get a thousand dollars, and our Oriental friend here gets two thousand for taking them himself. Let’s settle it that way.”
“What the fuck is this?”
At Holiday’s words, a coarse curse burst out of the Rangers.
Max’s mouth flicked into a smile and then vanished fast.
So he anticipated how this would go.
The rational split of the bounty aside, Max liked Holiday.
Harry Love, with his signature drooped eyes, looked at the suddenly intervening Holiday.
“I don’t know who you are, but look where you’re standing before you butt in.”
“My introduction’s late. Cyrus Kurtz Holliday, a businessman from Pennsylvania.”
He stressed Pennsylvania, the East, not Kansas—a signal that he was a proper businessman from back East, not some backwoods local.
But Harry Love’s response was lukewarm.
“A young fellow should mind his business—why meddle in another man’s?”
“Because I’m interested in this man.”
Harry Love snorted and pointed at Max.
“Interested in a bastard who’s about to die?”
“I told you, I won’t be dying alone.”
Holiday gave the unyielding Max a curious look, then addressed Harry Love.
“Is that how you mean to handle this? The California legislature will never pay you the bounty.”
“I don’t know why everyone flaps their mouths like they know the legislature.”
Holiday’s lip curled.
“I know plenty besides Governor John Bigler, the head of the assembly Neely Johnson, and John McDougall.”
“…”
“Even if you haul in a corpse, they won’t pay. Better I pay you myself.”
Harry Love’s eyes gleamed.
When it came to money, a capitalist’s words were worth hearing.
“You’ll save the time of collecting the bounty—I’ll give you a thousand dollars here and now.”
“Now?”
“Right now.”
No sooner had Holiday finished than the man behind him thrust out a heavy bundle of cash.
The Rangers stared at it, baffled and greedy.
A moment of silence, then Harry Love opened his mouth.
“All this over one lucky Oriental. You’ll be out of business soon.”
“I don’t do losing deals. I’ll collect everything from the California legislature. And just in case, we took photographs with the gang’s corpses—so don’t get any ideas.”
“Hm…”
Harry Love glanced at his men.
They all nodded. They wanted the money in hand and to clear out.
If the deal fell through here, what remained was a knock-down fight.
Against Max and the ten men Holiday had brought, the Rangers were guaranteed to bleed.
Nobody wanted that.
Harry Love finally nodded.
“You talk like a businessman. I like a clean cut.”
“A deal should be done solid.”
Just as the cash bundle began to change hands—
“Hold it. I haven’t agreed.”
A deal made over his head.
If he just watched it pass, he’d be signing up as a first-rate chump.
Max clicked his tongue in disbelief, and the watching Rangers were even more dumbstruck.
“Why’s that bastard so damn confident all by himself?”
Call it the usual behavior of men with nothing to lose. Max was the textbook case of a bastard living only for today.
The Rangers, on the other hand, had something to lose.
The money right in front of their eyes made their own lives precious.
Max ignored the Rangers’ reactions and looked at Holiday.
Holiday needed a competent gunman to guard him, and that’s why he’d come lugging cash to find Max.
You’ve sensed it too—the blood-wind is about to blow in Kansas.
****
— Let’s finish this first. We’ll pay the rest to our Oriental friend as well.
Holiday wrapped the situation by saying he’d pay Max cash separately.
Harry Love, bundle thick in hand, shot Max a look and spat out a line.
“Kid. Next time we meet, be ready.”
“Not ‘be ready.’ Next time let’s have a drink and laugh.”
“Drink? Snot-nosed brat’s got some nerve.”
When Max’s hand went toward his belt, Harry Love and the Rangers took another step back. Maybe ashamed of themselves, one of the Rangers let out a self-mocking groan.
Moments later, Harry Love led his cursing Rangers out of town.
Max snorted and watched their backs recede.
When the Rangers were out of sight,
Holiday spoke up.
He was twenty-eight this year.
Ten years older than Max.
“So, where’s my two thousand?”
“I’ll pay you tomorrow. What can I do if the bank’s short on cash today? By the way, your English is good.”
Maybe because he’d grown up well-off, Holiday looked clean and unshadowed—unlike Lee Maksan of gloomy Joseon.
“Anyway, I heard you wanted to work as my bodyguard?”
“Yes. But…”
Max cut a glance past Holiday.
“Those gentlemen aren’t enough?”
“I’ve got a lot on my plate. When I spread men across my businesses, protection gets thin.”
“Is that the only reason?”
“Well… the mood’s ugly these days, too.”
Max nodded.
“Terms?”
Holiday leaned in and whispered in Max’s ear.
“Ten dollars a week.”
“That’s a miner’s wage.”
“…Miners are the highest paid.”
“What are you talking about? The governor gets more.”
“You’re not the governor.”
“I’m not a miner, either.”
Holiday clicked his tongue and dropped his face for a beat. Then he leaned in again.
“Thirteen. No higher. You’re Oriental, and I’ve got to factor your age.”
“Understood. In exchange—”
“What now?”
“Saturday and Sunday are holidays…?”
Holiday’s eyes wavered.
He let out a short laugh.
“Sabbath off is a given, but Saturday too? That’s overdoing it.”
“Don’t think of it as time off. Self-improvement raises a bodyguard’s performance.”
“…Fine. Saturdays, mornings only. But I’m shaving a dollar off the weekly.”
This one bargains well.
Max nodded readily.
Honestly, making that offer to an Oriental was bold enough.
But to the men behind Holiday, Max was just some Oriental who’d popped up out of nowhere. Their faces were calm, but their eyes held contempt and envy.
I need to build this body fast.
They agreed Max would start guarding Holiday a month later.
Holiday balked, of course, but Max pled he’d starve into malnutrition otherwise.
“Good grief. Anyway, I’ll bring the money tomorrow—see you then.”
“Then I’ll ask for a thousand up front.”
“A thousand? What if you change your mind later?”
Max narrowed his eyes and said nothing. Holiday snorted and turned away.
****
“Did you really have to go that far?”
The man beside Holiday asked.
He was a former officer from the Mexican War, a fellow named Albert Abston.
“Why, because he’s Oriental?”
“That’s part of it. He’s a dried-up kid at best.”
Eighteen wasn’t that young, but Max did look younger.
“You know Harry Love, the Rangers’ captain, well?”
“To a point.”
“His gun work is supposed to be quite good, right?”
“Well, he’s a name in those parts.”
“Facing a man like that and nineteen Rangers at once, the Oriental kid didn’t yield an inch.”
Albert didn’t answer.
Holiday gave him a sidelong look and went on.
“The Five Joaquins aren’t a sloppy gang. Harry Love let them slip three times and even lost two men. And word is he was outgunned by Murrieta and Three-Fingered Jack, so tell me—am I wrong to want Max?”
“…”
“For reference, the gold the Five Joaquins lifted comes to a cool hundred thousand dollars. Maybe that’s why the California legislature upped the bounty from three thousand to five just recently.”
“Five thousand dollars… sir?”
“Shh, that’s between us.”
Holiday smiled and lifted a finger to his lips.
Albert said no more.
The scrawny Oriental still rubbed him wrong, but he was reminded of something about Holiday.
He never does a losing deal.
He’d thought it was meddling, but Holiday had just made two thousand dollars sitting down.
“Will the Rangers sit still once they learn this?”
“That’s Max’s problem to solve.”
“…”
“Why are you looking at me like that? I never said I was keeping it all.”
****
The armed men were gone.
As if nothing had happened, quiet fell around the barn.
So far, so smooth.
The troublesome California Rangers were settled amicably, and two months into being thrown into the West, he’d landed money and a job.
Arms: three pistols, two rifles, three Bowie knives. Excessive, but they’d be useful later.
While Max was mulling a few things,
he suddenly drew a knife.
Then he threw it in one direction.
Whiiish. Thunk.
“Guh!”
Someone sucked in a breath. Max walked toward the knife stuck in the corner plank wall.
“Quit skulking and come out—before I punch holes in you.”
“…”
The man who showed himself, sheepish, was the bouncer.
Max had known he’d been hiding and watching since Holiday arrived.
“Here to collect for the water?”
“N-no. I’ve got a message. Ahem.”
“A message?”
“Well, uh… sleep inside the inn tonight.”
“Did the rules change all of a sudden?”
“I just do what the owner says.”
Max stroked his jaw and thought a moment.
He weighed where the sudden change of heart came from.
Reputation. Connections. Or maybe they’re pre-empting me from raising hell later?
Whatever it was, one thing was clear.
Pile up name and money, and racial prejudice stops being a problem.
Max held the bouncer’s shrunken gaze.
“Then give me a room with a bath.”
****
Max stared into the bath-house mirror at his face.
Is it just because the kid’s young? Why the hell don’t I have any beard?
Youth was nice, but the smooth, whiskerless skin made him look even younger.
There was something else, though, oddly mature for his age.
That part’s plenty stout.
If anything, better than Jo Yookang in the prior life.
Max inspected himself this way and that in the mirror and smiled, satisfied.
He sank into the tub filled with water.
Even though it hadn’t been long, grime floated up in clumps.
Come to think of it, this is my first bath since I came to America.
Maybe the first in his life.
He might have soaked in a stream, but nowhere in Lee Maksan’s memories was there a proper bath.
An hour later, Max climbed out of the tub and, feeling fresh, put on the new underclothes and clothes.
James and Mary had bought them at a clothing shop.
Boots up to the calves. Pants, shirt, and even a vest—solid black, all of it.
Not a bad look.
The clothes he’d been wearing were from a dead man—creepy—and someone might recognize them. He burned the lot to erase the trail.
Not the open range but the inn’s dining room. For once, Max ate supper under a roof.
“Feels like family, eating together like this.”
Conall was in such a good mood he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. James and Mary were as happy as if it were their own business that Max would sleep at the inn.
“It’s a shame we’ll have to live apart from now on. There’s so much I wanted to learn from Max…”
“What do you want to learn?”
“Shooting and knife work!”
“Too soon.”
“I’m already thirteen, you know?”
“Grow a bit more first.”
Conall clicked his tongue and chewed his lips.
Max looked at the couple and asked,
“Mind if I visit on weekends?”
James nodded as if of course, and Mary went a step further.
“We’ll make a room for you, too. Think of it as home and come anytime.”
“Now you’re making me tear up again.”
“As if you’ll actually cry.”
She meant when he’d first had bread and beer and his eyes had gone red.
Max toyed with a hot pepper, then set it down.
“By the way, sorry the bounty got cut.”
“Is that something you should apologize for? If anything, we should be sorry.”
Even though it dropped from three thousand to two, Max stuck to the exact half.
“Anyway, it’s a relief things ended with the California Rangers at that level.”
Unlike the Texas Rangers, who kept on as vigilantes, the California Rangers were one-off. Once the Five Joaquins job was done, the outfit was set to disband.
So if things had gone sideways, they might have come back for payback anytime.
And it didn’t exactly end on a sweet note now, either.
If he met them again when he was alone, shooting first was survival.
The next day.
Holiday came to the inn with only one subordinate.
“Papers for the California legislature. Sign here, will you?”
Max read the documents closely.
From the circumstances of catching the gang to the clause authorizing Holiday, as agent, to receive the bounty.
“You can read?”
“Of course.”
“Could’ve been trouble if you’d scrawled your name blind.”
Holiday seemed taken with Max; the smile wouldn’t leave his face.
“But you’re sure a thousand’s enough?”
“Yes. That’s enough for now. Thanks, boss.”
“Boss?”
Holiday laughed and patted Max’s shoulder. Usually folks slapped a ‘Mr.’ on a name.
“We’re wrapping business here today and heading for Lawrence tomorrow. You?”
“I’ll be going to Leavenworth with James’s family.”
“Not far, then. Kick that malnutrition fast, and I’ll see you in a month.”
Holiday was just stepping out when something occurred to him; he turned back.
“When you get to Leavenworth, be careful. Same as Lawrence—Kansas has a lot of trouble these days. If anyone asks what you think about slavery, say you don’t know.”
“Understood.”
Max dipped his head calmly, and Holiday studied him a moment before asking,
“What do you think about slavery?”
“I’m against it.”
“Hey, I told you not to answer like that. Never show it!”
Holiday, not trusting Max, repeated it a few times before leaving the inn.
It’s about thirty miles from Kansas City to Leavenworth—roughly forty-eight kilometers.
Not far, but by wagon it takes a whole day.
Before leaving, Max held out a one-dollar coin to the bouncer.
Who knows when I’ll use this inn again.
Among Missouri inns, this was the only one that took Orientals; currying favor with a single dollar wasn’t a bad idea.
“It’s for the water I used.”
“…Forget it. I was just mouthing off.”
“Really?”
Max smiled and went on.
“Even for a day, I got a bath and a good night’s sleep thanks to you. Appreciate it.”
Smiling, Max pressed a gold coin into his hand.
The bouncer stared, dazed.
An Oriental tipping a dollar.
Pride aside, it was so new it felt strange.
Max and the James family finished loading the wagon.
“Alright, let’s roll!”
Conall shouted from inside the wagon.
James was smiling and about to flick the whip when—
A wagon and half a dozen men happened to pass by them.
They were armed with guns and looked for all ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ the world like a gang.
Ptui.
The man in front spat and raked Max’s party with a sharp gaze.
So did the ones behind.
Max had his ten-gallon hat pulled low, so he didn’t catch their interest, but a few of them cast leering glances at Mary.
James hesitated a moment.
And just then, the bouncer burst out of the inn and shouted, flustered.
“There’s a bill we haven’t settled yet!”
“What are you talking about?”
“Supplies you used got left off—hold up a minute!”
James and Mary knit their brows.
Meanwhile, the group that had been passing had already gone on ahead.