Wilson's Gemstone

Wilson’s Gemstone

Trevor Prescott

Ophelia flung herself into Jesse’s embrace, throwing her arms tight around his neck and kissing him deeply. Her hat tumbled to the dusty ground, but she barely noticed. “Can you believe it?!”

“We did it!” Jesse cried. “Wilson’s Gem is ours!”

Ophelia brought it to her face and inspected it. Jesse wanted to hold it, but the emerald looked so beautiful reflected in her eyes that he didn’t have the heart to take it away. Ophelia pressed her lips to the gemstone and kissed it.

“We’re gonna be rich!” Jesse turned to Maxwell. “You hear that? First thing tomorrow, we’re riding into New Elizabeth and payin’ off your bounty!”

“Yeehaw…” Maxwell said softly, watching Ophelia’s lips caress the gemstone.

“What’s the matter, Maxwell? We’re rich!”

This time, Maxwell turned to him, forcing a smile. “Don’t mind me,” He said with a nervous chuckle. “I’m just shocked, is all.”

Jesse wasn’t convinced. He’d known Maxwell for years—hell, he remembered playing Bandits with him down at the Westfolk corral when they were eight. Ophelia had been Maxwell’s girl first, but then fallen for Jesse—as most women do—about two years earlier. That had caused a rough patch, sure, but they’d moved on.

He’d seen Maxwell at his best and at his worst—and he’d seen him shocked, too. Right now, he was something else. Darkness lurked behind Maxwell’s gaze and as his eyes fell to Ophelia—specifically, the denim swell of her swaying bum as she strolled to a nearby lantern to peer through the gemstone—he felt a pang of anger.

“We should go to New Elizabeth now,” Ophelia chirped, handing the stone to Jesse.

Jesse inspected it and turned his eyes toward the mouth of the mine. He couldn’t see outside, but he knew it was late—heck, the miners didn’t even leave until sundown, and that had been hours ago.

“Easy sweetheart,” Jesse cooed, snaking an arm around Ophelia’s naked tailbone and pulling her close. “There’ll be plenty of time for that—and other things (he accentuated this with a glance down at her chest, barely covered by a red plaid shirt knotted at the midriff)—in the morning. There’s wolves everywhere this time’a night. For now, let’s hit the hay. We gotta clear out by sun-up.”

“Aww,” Ophelia pouted. “Can I at least hold on to the Gem?” She rose to her tiptoes, straining the leather of her boots. “Little ol’ me ain’t goin’ anywhere without my boys, am I?”

Her voice was like butter. Jesse chuckled. “How can I say no?” He said, plopping the Gem into Ophelia’s waiting hand.

Giggling, Ophelia clutched the stone close and trotted over to the far wall, bending over to arrange a pile of hay into a makeshift bed. Jesse looked to Maxwell, only to find that his eyes were on Ophelia yet again.



* * *



Jesse opened one eye. He’d tried to sleep, but thoughts of the Gem kept running through his head. He couldn’t wait for dawn to come.

Ophelia lay curled-up on her hay-bed, her smooth tanned legs folded tight and her hands clasped at her chest, keeping the Gem safe and warm.

Maxwell stood at her side, staring down at her.

Jesse reached for his Smith & Wesson.

“Hold it.” Without turning around, Maxwell drew his Peacemaker and held it on Jesse.

“What do you think you’re doin’?” Jesse asked, his voice firm.

“This don’t concern you, Jesse. This is between me and the girl.”

“And the girl concerns me,” Jesse corrected him, “So yeah, I’d reckon this concerns me, too.”

“I’m takin’ the Gem, and whatever gold they give me.”

“What makes you think that?”

Maxwell drew back the hammer of his gun.

Jesse looked around. “There must be fifty tons of dynamite in this mine, Maxwell. You fire that thing, none’a us is getting out.

“Then you best not make me fire it.” Maxwell stooped down and dug into Ophelia’s bosom, searching for the Gem.

“You best watch them paws,” Ophelia hissed, rolling over. In the dim light of the one remaining lantern, Jesse could see the glint of her drawn revolver. “Or I might have to cut ‘em off.”

Maxwell’s gun hovered on Jesse. Ophelia’s gun hovered on Maxwell. The mournful wail of a howling wolf drifted down the mineshaft.

“We found this Gem together,” Ophelia growled. “We’re sellin’ it together.”

“We never been together! Ever since you became Jesse’s gal, it’s never been the same. It’s been you and me, not us. Not like it used to be. Jesse, you can keep the whore. I’m takin’ the Gem.”

Jesse felt that pang again. It was like a poison, creeping up through his veins and boiling his blood along the way. His fingers trembled against the Smith & Wesson. If worst came to worst, he would only have one shot—and he would have to make it count. Maxwell was quick and if Jesse missed, he’d turn the gun on Ophelia next.

“I’m givin’ you one last chance,” Jesse growled through gritted teeth. “Step away from the Gem.”

“The Gem’s mine, Jesse. Always has been, always will be.”

Snarling, Ophelia fired. Maxwell turned his head to Jesse and took a step back, the bullet missing his skull by inches. It hit the ceiling. Jesse drew, his hand a blur, and aimed for the whites of Maxwell’s eyes. The barrel found its mark and Jesse fired.

Maxwell’s head snapped back. Blood sprayed from his forehead. His arms flailing, he stumbled backwards into a wooden beam. A spasm coursed through Maxwell’s body, all the way to his fingertips, and his hand clenched. His finger depressed on the trigger.

The gunshot cracked through the mineshaft like thunder. Jesse had just enough time to follow the line-of-sight of Maxwell’s gun before the barrel exploded.

“Fuckin’ cocksucker!”

The mineshaft buckled. Crates of TNT ignited and detonated. Her scream barely audible, Ophelia scrambled to her feet.

And then, Wilson’s Mine came crashing down.



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ID: 1843172   (Rated: 13+) Wilson's Gemstone  There are many precious things waiting to be found in Wilson's Mine... by Trevor Prescott