Each of the cowboys hung their heads in shame. Losing a fight was one thing. But three losing to one man was embarrassing. And then to be displayed like this. There couldn’t be a worse punishment.
“How long you going to keep us here,” one of them growled. “It ain’t right.”
Luke scoffed, “I ain’t decided. Maybe when the buzzards have done picked you clean. Maybe then I’ll untie the ropes from your bones.”
The man glared back up at him. Luke had to admire his guts, but not his intelligence. “How much did Felton pay you for this?”
Each of the men stared down, unwilling to admit anything.
“Let me guess. Thirty dollars.”
The smaller one glanced at his partner with large eyes. Luke knew that he’d hit the mark perfectly.
“I got to ask?” he continued. “Was it worth it?”
Again, the three of them ignored him. He smiled to himself as he pulled a chair out of the jail and set it just to the side of the door. Sitting down, he asked Jake to bring him a rifle.
Luke tipped the chair back against the adobe wall and stared up the street as he rested the rifle across his lap. It wouldn’t be long. Not if he knew Felton.
Rebecca stepped out, looked at the men then raised her eyebrow at him, silently asking him what next. Jake leaned up against the door frame and seemed to be wondering the same thing.
He shrugged as he nodded to the north. Joshua Felton was storming up the street like a bull buffalo charging a competitor trying to steal one of his harem.
“Parker,” the rancher yelled when he came within range. “What are these men doing here like this.”
“Your brother’s hogging the cell. You Circle B people do like to cause problems.” Luke said without getting up out of his chair. “This is the next best thing. If this keeps up, I’m going to have the town build some more cells.”
The man’s face turned beet red as he fought to keep himself under control. Luke wondered what upset him more. The fact that they had failed in taking him out. Or that the failure was so public in nature. And then, to top it off, the thought of his men, Circle B men, being displayed like this must be eating at his craw.
He continued to stare at the sheriff, then down at his men. A small speck of spittle appeared at the corner of the man’s lips. If he weren’t careful, the man was going to blow a cork.
Felton seemed to come to some kind of decision before he quickly turned and marched off.
“I wouldn’t worry boys,” Luke said to the men tied to the rail. “He’ll be back.”
And within minutes their boss appeared again, this time trailed by a good portion of the city council. Tuthill, Seaver, and Jamison. Not Strumph, Luke thought, interesting. Felton had only gotten halfway back when Sarah Felton stepped out of the restaurant and joined her brother. A tall, well-dressed man walked at her side. When they drew close enough, Luke stared into the man’s eyes. Cold as a fish, he thought. This was the man Becky had told him about and she was right. A hired gun if ever there was one.
“Tell him,” Felton said to the council.
Seaver stepped forward, his face had lost half its color as he looked down, unable to meet Luke’s eyes. Even Jamison, whose beaten miner, had started this whole fiasco, looked as if he was having second thoughts.
“You can’t keep them here like this,” the merchant said.
“You want I should hang them?” Luke asked.
All three council members cringed as they glanced over at Felton, obviously worried while also ashamed. They didn’t like carrying water for Felton. He must have really threatened them. He and his ranch were critical to the economic survival of the town. Either that, or he’d threatened open warfare.
Obviously, Felton’s biggest worry was his men being displayed for everyone to see. They were a constant reminder that he had failed.
“No, of course not,” Tuthill said. “We don’t want you to hang them. How ridiculous.”
Luke started to reply when Rebecca stepped forward. “These men tried to kill the sheriff. They should be put in prison for the rest of their lives.”
A warm feeling of pride washed through Luke. She didn’t hate him and God she was beautiful when she got like this. A lioness ready to take on the world.
He noticed Sarah glare up at Rebecca with a hatefulness that surprised him.
“They can wait until the judge shows up,” Luke said to the council. “It ain’t no bother guarding them.”
Felton sputtered, “You don’t understand …”
“Oh, I understand perfectly,” Luke said as he looked out over the crowd that had gathered. Obviously, this had to be the best show within five hundred miles. He could see it in their eyes, wondering who would prevail. A touch of violence, justice, and maybe some Felton humiliation mixed in. They were loving the way Felton was being taken down a peg. What is more, both Joshua and Sarah Felton could see it just as well as he could.
“I ain’t releasing them,” Luke said with a steady stare. “That’s up to the judge.”
“You can’t keep them here for two days,” Felton gasped.
“Watch me,” Luke said then spit into the ground next to the closest cowboy. Then, he subtly shifted the rifle on his lap. The slightest move and he could take out anyone stupid enough to try and clear leather.
The crowd mumbled under their breath as both of the Feltons stared at him. Luke was tempted to draw this out, he was enjoying the agony the Feltons were experiencing. But his stomach rumbled, he was hungry and didn’t want to spend the night out here keeping an eye on these men.
“Of course,” he said with a shrug. “If’n they was to admit to their guilt and pay the fine. I guess there wouldn’t be no need to wait until we could hold a trial.”
“Guilty?” one of the prisoners barked. “you attacked us?”
Luke shrugged his shoulders. “I guess you can sit there until the judge sorts it all out. I don’t think it’s going to rain so you should be fine.”
The three prisoners looked up at Felton, silently asking for help.
“How much?” Felton snapped. “The fines?”
Luke looked at the city council. Each man shrugged his shoulders in turn.
Staring back at Felton he smiled and said, “I guess a year's salary. Two fifty each.”
A gasp erupted throughout the crowd. Only Felton held still, his eyes boring into Luke as he ground his teeth. Finally, he nodded at the banker, Tuthill. “Take it from my account.” Then turned and marched off. Sarah and the strange cowboy on his heels.
As they walked away, Luke noticed Felton say something to the gunman then lead him off to the hotel. Interesting, he thought. It appeared as if Joshua had come over to seeing things Sarah’s way.
Sighing to himself, Luke noticed Bill Carver off to the side, shaking his head with admiration. The man hadn’t left. Like he’d said, he wanted to stick around and see the fireworks.
Luke glanced around him. More than a few in the crowd were smiling and slapping each other on the back. It was obvious they understood who had won.
It was time to end this. He’d made his point. The next time, things wouldn’t go so easily.
Felton had believed he was free and clear. If his men won, then there would be nobody to force his brother to remain in jail. If they lost. They could slink away until he could come up with another plan. But now he had learned, failure would result in public humiliation. Luke was sure that there was no higher cost in Joshua Felton’s books.
“Jake,” Luke said to his brother, “Cut ‘em loose.”
His brother frowned at him for a moment as if asking if he was sure he wanted to let them go.
Luke shot him a look that let him know this was not the time to argue.
As Jake cut the ropes, the larger cowboy began rubbing his wrists then asked, “What about our guns?”
Laughing, Luke shook his head. “Those were confiscated as a result of a crime. Assaulting a peace offer. You can file a petition with the judge
. Or you can buy some new ones. They should cost you about thirty dollars each.”
The three cowboys grumbled as they looked like they were going to argue but Luke subtly moved the rifle to cover them. “You boys head on home. I’d stay out of Silver Creek for a month or so.”
“You can’t tell us what to do,” the smaller one cursed. “Our fine’s been paid.”
“Son,” Luke said as he glared at the man. “I ain’t in a right friendly mood. I see you in town, I might think you was gunning for me. Which means I might shoot you on sight. But you do what you think is best.”
The cowboy swallowed hard then joined his friends to limp across the street to the Red House.
Luke, watched them for a few minutes then turned to Jake. “You watch our guest in the back. I’m tired of eating behind my desk. I’m headed over to the restaurant.” Then, turning to Becky, he raised an eyebrow.
She smiled at him then slid her arm into his and leaned her shoulder against his.
His heart jumped. The woman didn’t hate him. A minor miracle but he wasn’t going to question it. Instead, he was just going to enjoy being loved by a woman like this. Most definitely one of those major miracles in his book.
Chapter Twenty-Two
For the next two days, life settled into something almost normal. The Circle B boys kept quiet. Felton stayed in the hotel. But a tension was building. Two miners got into a knockdown drag-out fight over a bar girl in the Bull’s Head. The next night, someone fired off a dozen shots into the air but disappeared before Luke could get there. It felt like a prairie storm approaching, that charged, buzzing feeling like death was just around the corner.
How would it go down? he wondered. How would Felton make his next move? He had to hurry or the Marshal would be here. And if he went up against federal lawman, the army would step in and he would lose any opportunity at getting his brother free.
Would he try rushing the jail with a dozen men? Or use that gun hand, Dawson? Either that or maybe they planned on breaking Mark Felton out after the trial, maybe while he was being shipped back to the penitentiary.
One thing had been decided. Sheriff Reed would live. He was still wobbly on his feet and stricken with massive headaches. But he would live. So there wouldn’t be a hanging.
Sitting back in his chair, Luke put it all aside as he returned to his most pressing problem. Who killed Tom Johnson? And why had the Felton’s bought his ranch? The letters he’d sent off to the Marshall and to the Army had asked for any information on this Henry Travers. But it might be weeks before he heard anything.
“Hey Sheriff,” his prisoner called from the back. “Any chance on getting something other than steak? God, what I wouldn’t give for a plate of tamales.”
“You’re lucky you ain’t on bread and water,” Luke scoffed.
No sooner were the words out of his mouth when the door opened as Becky stepped in with two plates. His heart jumped as always when he saw her. The light shining through her golden hair, the curve of her waist called at the man inside of him.
The savory aroma of a cooked meal permeated the jail. “Thought you might be tired of steak,” she said, lifting up one of the plates. “I made some fried chicken, potatoes, and sweet corn.”
“Chicken!” Felton called from the back.
“Not for you,” Becky said to him. “The town ain’t paying me to cook you special meals.”
Luke’s insides softened with pure happiness. She had done this just for him. Her way of showing how much she cared. God, he couldn’t wait until they could start their life together. That thought was immediately followed with a sense of fear at all he had to lose.
If the Feltons took him out. He would never know what it was like to share Becky’s bed. He’d never bounce his son on his knee. Never get a chance to pass along all the things Zion had taught him. No, he’d just become a forgotten memory to most people. The man who had foolishly stood up against the Feltons.
Becky would be sad. But she was young. Somewhere down the line, she would find another to love. The thought sent a shaft of pure pain to his heart. He should want that for her. His head knew it was only right. But his heart refused to see it that way. No, she was his, his alone.
“Thank you,” he said as he took Felton’s steak back to him. When he returned, Becky had placed a gingham napkin next to his plate and sat in the chair across from him.
“How much longer?” she asked.
He shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t forget, once we get this settled. I still got to track down who killed your uncle?”
She sighed heavily across from him. “Luke, I don’t care. Not anymore. Not if it means risking you.”
“Becky …” he started.
“No,” she interrupted, “I’ve thought about it. I want to go to Oregon. With you. There is nothing here for me. Not anymore. We could just ride out. Take Jake with us.”
As he bit into a chicken leg, Luke shook his head. “I can’t walk away.”
“Why?” she demanded. He noticed that her face was becoming red, almost splotchy. Obviously, she was getting angry.
“Because …”
“Don’t talk to me like I’m a little girl,” she snapped. He could tell she wasn’t pleased with him and looking to start a fight. That was the thing about Becky. He could fight with her and never fear losing her. Not really.
“Because,” he repeated, “if a man starts walking away from the hard things. Soon enough he finds himself walking away from the easy. And before you know it. He won’t stand and face noth’en.”
She growled under her breath as she stared at him. She took in a deep breath, obviously preparing to lay into him and his stupidity when a yell from the street interrupted them. The yell was followed by the clomp of charging horses and the jingle of a team being driven hard.
“The stage,” she gasped as she turned and hurried to the door.
Luke followed and watched over the top of her head as Slim Winters pulled back on the reins and brought his stage in to stop directly in front of the stage office in a cloud of dust that tickled the back of Luke’s throat.
Chester Polk tipped his hat from up in the shotgun position then, looked down the street to Helen’s restaurant, his eye searching.
“It looks like they got through without a problem,” he said to Becky.
She remained frozen as she watched the passengers disembark from the far side then come around the back of the stage and wait for their bags to be unloaded.
Three men. Each dressed in black broadcloth, a tall thin one in a gray hat, a short portly one with a black hat. The third man, smaller, with spectacles, glanced over to the jail, then turned and said something to the other two men. None of them wore a gun. At least not where he could see.
Jake stepped out of Helen’s restaurant and across the street to join Luke and Becky.
“I don’t see no Marshall in that lot,” Jake said as he shook his head.
Becky gasped then turned and stared up at Luke, her eyes accusing him of being wrong.
“Sheriff,” the man in the gold-rimmed spectacles said as he walked across the dusty street, the two other men close behind him. “Judge Simmons,” he said as he held out his hand.
Luke shook the man’s hand as he studied him closely. Did this man have any idea what kind of snake pit he’d wandered into? And without a marshal nearby. Exactly how intelligent were the judges around here?
“This is Mr. Braum, and Mr. Chambers, Attorneys at law,” the judge said as a way of introduction.
“I’ll be prosecuting,” Braum, the portly one, said.
“Are you sure?” Chambers asked. “I thought it was my turn.”
“No,” Braum said. “You had both the Boulton and the Smith cases in Reno. It’s my turn.”
Chambers shrugged his shoulders then turned to Luke, “Can you show me the prisoner. I suppose I should get his side of the story.”
Luke nodded for Jake to show the man back to the cell.
“This is M
iss Rebecca Johnson,” Luke said to the judge and the lawyer.
Both men shook her hand, with Braum giving her a smile that set Luke’s nerves on edge. He noticed however that Becky didn’t return it. Instead, she asked, “Isn’t there a U.S. Marshall with you?”
Judge Simmons shook his head. “We’re a new state, no longer a territory. This case sounds as if it is pretty much a state issue.”
“What about a state Marshall?” Rebecca asked.
The judge shrugged. “We ain’t got around to getting them yet. If the man is convicted, he’ll serve his time at the state’s new penitentiary in Carson City. You lot will have to get him there.”
Luke’s stomach fell. He’d sent inquiries about Travers to the federal authorities. He’d never thought to send them to the state people. Now, there was no marshal to take this problem off his hands.
Becky rolled her eyes then shot Luke a look of said ‘I told you so.’
Luke pretended not to see Becky’s look as he asked the judge, “What do you need from me?”
Judge Simmons smiled reassuringly. “We were through here last year. Held the trials in the church. It should work well enough this time. I can’t abide holding a trial in a saloon. Sends the wrong message. If Reverend Prescott is still here, he’ll know how I like things set up. ”
“And I will need a list of witnesses,” Braum interjected. “Any physical evidence or written statements.”
Luke nodded as he felt his world shifting away from him. He was no longer in control. These men would be in charge from this point forward. Much like in the Army. There was always someone higher up the food chain.
Returning to his desk he pulled out the paperwork he’d prepared just for this moment.
Braum began rifling through it, nodding, as he bit at his lower lip.
“Tomorrow at noon?” the judge asked Braum. “We’ve got a case in Jarbridge, and knowing that lot. If we don’t hurry, they’ll just hang the man before we get there.”
“Yes,” Braum said. “It seems pretty clear cut.”
“Very well then, Sheriff,” the judge said as he held out his hand again. “Have the prisoner presented before me at noon tomorrow in Reverend Prescott’s church. Until then, I will be over at the hotel.”
Silver Creek (The Parker Family Saga) Page 14