Pemberley Ranch - Jack Caldwell [17]
In a deceptively friendly tone, Fitz said, “I wouldn’t do that, if’n I was you.”
Denny half turned back, his eyes quickly taking stock of Fitzwilliam. “Yeah? Big talk, mister, seein’ as you ain’t wearin’ your gun.”
Fitz chuckled. “Yeah, well, packin’ a gun seemed a rather unnecessary embellishment for a weddin’, at least for honest folks.”
“You better shut up, Fitzwilliam,” Denny snarled, “or I’ll shut ya up fur good.”
Fitz shook his head. “Tsk, tsk—ain’t no cause for being unsociable, Denny. Is there, José?”
“No, señor,” came a voice from Denny’s blind side. “We is all friends here, today.”
Denny whipped his head to see a large man grinning just behind him.
“You know José Estrada, don’t you, Denny?” Fitz smiled as he leaned on the bar. “No? He’s my Number Two at Pemberley. José, this here’s Kid Denny, ranch boss from the B&R. He considers himself to be some kinda gunfighter, which is why he’s got the lack o’ manners to bring a six-shooter into a weddin’ reception. Now, José here don’t need no gun, as he can pull your arm clear off without tryin’. Can’t you, José?”
José showed his teeth. “Sí, I can do that, Fitz, no problema. But I can shoot, too, you bet.”
Fitz’s eyes never left Denny’s face. “Peter, you find that shotgun behind the bar?”
“Oh, yeah, boss,” came another voice. Denny didn’t need to turn around to see that another Pemberley rider was behind him.
Denny gritted his teeth. “You think you’re pretty smart, don’t ya?”
“I have my moments.” Fitz waved Sheriff Lucas over. “Sheriff, it seems Denny here’s weighted down by a big, heavy gun. It’s spoilin’ his drinkin’, ain’t it, Denny? Now, that don’t seem right, does it?”
Lucas looked at both men. “That’s enough of that, Fitz.” He held out his hand. “Denny, the sign outside clearly said ‘No Guns.’ Hand it over, an’ you can pick it up at the jail later.”
Denny hesitated before handing over his Colt. Lucas grunted, slipping the pistol into his waistband. “I don’t want any trouble from any of you, got it? Be on your way.”
“Mr. Darcy’s leaving right now, Lucas, an’ we’ll be followin’ him,” Fitz assured the sheriff.
“This ain’t over, Fitzwilliam,” Denny spat.
“See you ’round, Denny,” Fitz said coldly. The three Pemberley riders backed out of the saloon after Darcy and his sister.
Whitehead had noticed the end of the confrontation between Denny and Fitzwilliam as Darcy and his party walked away.
“Well, Mrs. Bingley, I must apologize for Mr. Darcy’s rudeness—”
An angry Bingley held up his hand. “Stop. Don’t—say—a— word, Whitehead. I won’t hear anything against Darcy. I didn’t invite you—you’re only here as a favor to my father-in-law.”
Whitehead tilted his head. “That’s mighty unfriendly, Doctor.”
Bingley knew Jane was upset, and he hated that he was spoiling the reception. “Look, I don’t want any trouble. I stand by what I said when you moved to town. You go your way, an’ I’ll go mine. You get sick, an’ I’ll treat you like anybody else. Other than that, I’ve got nothing to say to you.” He saw that Jane’s sisters were walking their way, and he didn’t want to prolong the conversation, especially in their presence. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I want to dance with my bride.” With that the two took to the floor, Bingley whispering in Jane’s ear he would explain later. Just as they started to dance, an angry Beth with a curious Kathy and Lily joined Whitehead.
“George, I couldn’t help noticing that you and Mr. Darcy had cross words,” Beth observed.
A corner of Whitehead’s lip twitched. “Yes, you could say that.”
Kathy looked towards the door. “Imagine! Causing a scene at Jane’s wedding! What a disagreeable person! I hope Jane wasn’t too upset.”
“I’m sure she’s not, Miss Kathy. Your new brother-in-law has caught her attention.” Sure enough, Jane was beaming at her groom as they moved to the music.
“I thought there was going to be a fight!” cried Lily. “You could take him, couldn’t you, George?”
“Lily!” admonished Beth.
“Far be it from me to start such unpleasantness,” Whitehead assured them. “I was just congratulating