by Paul Colt
Four heavily armed horsemen rode through town. Three of them led a second horse each with a blanket-shrouded body tied across the saddle. The only one he recognized was the gawky Bonney kid. Tunstall hired the boy, he seemed to recall. He guessed the rest for hired guns. Tunstall had hired more than a few. They drew rein at Brady’s office and stepped down. The man who seemed to be in charge went inside.
Moments later he came out with Brady. The sheriff stopped at the first body and peeled back the blanket. He moved on to the second and the third. The leader handed Brady a folded document. Brady looked at it for a minute or two then shook his head. Dolan resisted the temptation to go over and find out what this was all about.
Brady shouted something over his shoulder toward the office. Deputy George Hindman scrambled out the door and down the steps. He collected the reins of the horses carrying the bodies and led them up the street toward the blacksmith’s shop where they’d be measured for coffins. Brady exchanged a few more words with the leader, turned on his heel and stomped back into the office. Tunstall’s hired guns led their horses down the street to the cantina. With the street clear, Dolan had all the suspense he could stand.
“I’ll be back, Jasper.” The visitor bell clanged as he swept out the door and down the street to Brady’s office. He found the red-faced sheriff staring open-mouthed at his desk.
“What the hell was that all about?”
“You ain’t gonna believe this.”
“Try me. Who were the dead men?”
“Frank Baker, Buck Morton and Bill McCloskey.”
“Who killed them?”
“That’s the part you won’t believe. Tunstall’s hired guns claim they’re a constable’s posse. They said they had warrants for the arrest of those involved in killing Tunstall. That means they’re still after more of my men. You said you would take care of that problem.”
“I did. The governor is here. He convinced Justice Wilson to withdraw Brewer’s appointment last night.”
“Well the word never got to Brewer and it sure won’t do Baker and Morton no good. We can’t have lawmen gunning each other down. Somebody’s got to be in charge.”
“The governor is calling out the army to declare martial law.”
“They better get here quick. Brewer’s got Tunstall and Chisum’s hired guns organized into some excuse for a posse.”
“What did McCloskey have to do with it?”
“He worked for Chisum of late. Tunstall’s man, Waite, claims Baker shot him while he and Morton were tryin’ to escape.” Brady pulled his desk chair back and sat heavily, rubbing the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. “I don’t like this one bit. They bring any of those men to trial somebody’s liable to talk.”
“Nobody’s going to trial, Brady. Now shut up and listen. Brewer and his so-called posse killed those men without legal sanction. You go along to Justice Wilson and you get warrants on Dick Brewer and every last one of McSween’s and Chisum’s gunmen, including the Bonney kid. The charge is murder.”
South Spring
They kept the nuptials simple. The black-robed Padre Bernardino officiated. Short and plump with a shiny bald pate fringed in brown hair, he performed his solemn duties with a jolly disposition. Chisum gave the bride away. Ty stood up for Johnny. Dawn Sky chose the big black cowboy Deacon Swain for her witness. The ex-slave took the responsibility in sober humor, mindful of his unfamiliar presence in the big house. Caneris was the only other guest. They moved the parlor furniture away from the fireplace to allow them all to gather around.
The padre began with a cherub-like smile. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join this man and this woman in the sacrament of holy matrimony.”
The words took Ty back to a small white church on a hill east of Cheyenne. The day he made Victoria his wife was the happiest day of his life. Now she was gone, her life cut short by a vicious killer. Had it been a year already? It had. He still felt the hollow place she left in his life. Avenging her killing staunched his rage. That only made room for the hurt. Would he ever know that joy again? Lucy smiled in his mind’s eye. Maybe, maybe one day he could.
They had something between them. They’d both felt it the time they first met in Dodge. A casual conversation, nothing more, he’d walked away then. He hadn’t seen her again until last year. So much had happened. So much had changed and yet, the feeling was still there. It touched a nerve raw with grief in Denver last spring and then again later in Santa Fe. It got the best of them on a hillside in Lincoln last summer. He’d walked away again. She turned to Tunstall. The Englishman’s death left no reason they couldn’t try again, if she was willing. It seemed like she might be. The padre called him back to the moment.
“Do you, Nathaniel John Roth, take this woman, to have and to hold . . .”
Nathaniel?Ty arched an amused brow at Roth.
He scowled in reply.
“For rich or for poor, in sickness and in health until death do you part?”
“I do.”
“Do you Maria Dawn Sky take this man . . .”
Ty smiled at Roth’s surprise. Two could play this game.
She turned to Roth, misty eyed. “I do.”
“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
He didn’t have to ask twice.
Ty took Johnny’s hand with a chuckle. “Congratulations, Nathaniel.”
“Don’t start with me.”
“I noticed you got a surprise of your own.”
He turned to Dawn. “I didn’t know your name was Maria.”
“Padre said I must have a Christian name when he baptized me. He gave Dawn Sky that name.”
“I’ll stick with Dawn.”
She smiled. “I like Johnny too.”
“Well, that’s settled.” Chisum handed glasses of whiskey to Johnny and Ty. He turned to Johnny and Dawn. “Let me offer my best wishes for all the happiness life can bring to your marriage.”
Ty lifted his glass. “I’ll drink to that.”
They did.
“When are you heading back to Lincoln, Ty?” Chisum said.
“I plan to start back in the morning.”
“Good, mind if I ride with you?”
“Hell, no, I’d be glad of the company.”
“I need to spend a few days up there. It’ll let the newlyweds have the run of the house.”
Roth lifted his glass. “That’s a mighty fine wedding present, John. Thanks.”
“Hell, that ain’t your wedding present. Com’on step outside with me for a minute.” He led the way out to the porch, followed by Johnny and Dawn. An unseasonably warm taste of spring blew up from the south, stirring waves on a golden sea of winter grass. It ruffled the hair at Dawn’s shoulders. Chisum swept an arm northeast. “See that section?”
Johnny nodded.
“That’s your wedding present, clear to the river. You can put your house right there.”
“I, I don’t know how we can thank you, John.”
“Don’t. It means I won’t have to break in a new housekeeper. At least until this one gets busy with little ones of her own. Now let’s go back inside and give this wedding a proper celebration.”
Chisum and Ledger didn’t wait breakfast for the newlyweds the next morning. They saddled up and rode northwest under a sky patched in cottonball clouds. Chisum sat a long-striding, big-boned buckskin, setting a brisk pace. Morning chill gave way to a softer spring warmth. The hillsides hinted green traces of new growth. Here and there a touch of color promised the arrival of spring flowers.
“If you don’t mind my asking, what brings you up to Lincoln?”
Gray eyes lit the shadow beneath his hat brim. “Time I talk to McSween and get a feel for how Dolan’s reactin’ to our people goin’ after Tunstall’s killers.”
“You need a trip to Lincoln to figure that out?”
He pursed his lips. “Not how he’s takin’ it, if that’s what you mean. The question is what’s
he gonna do about it?”
“He’s likely to figure it for a county matter and no business of constables appointed by a justice of the peace.”
“Yup. He can disagree all he wants. Talk is cheap. Doin’ some-thin’ about it is another matter.”
“He’s got some guns.”
“He does. We’ve got more and that’s before we finish servin’ those warrants. He’ll read them tea leaves and reckon he’s got to do somethin’ before we get too much advantage on him. The question is what?”
“He’ll tip his hand sooner or later. Marshal Widenmann and I will keep an eye on things.” The conversation fell silent for a mile or so.
“There’s a creek up yonder.” Chisum waved a gloved hand toward a stand of cottonwood off to the west. “We can water and rest the horses a spell.”
The horses caught the scent of water and picked up the pace without encouragement. They splashed into the gurgling stream, swollen with spring runoff and dropped their heads to drink. Chisum and Ledger stepped down.
Ledger cupped a handful of clear cold water to his mouth. It tasted sweet. Even the dribble running down his chin felt good. Chisum stood by, his sun-bronzed square jaw set above the collar of his canvas coat. His steel-gray hair turned white at the sideburns.
“That was a mighty generous wedding gift you made Johnny and Dawn Sky.”
“Best way I could think of to keep her close by. I love that girl like a daughter. I always knew she’d up and marry one day, but an old man like me didn’t have to like the idea.”
“I’ve known Johnny a long time. He’ll be good to her.”
“Hell, I know that. If I didn’t think so I’d have run him off at gunpoint. It’s nothin’ personal. An old man gets set in his ways. He don’t have to be cheerful over the loss of the daughter he never had.”
“You haven’t exactly lost her and you ain’t that old, either.”
His eyes creased at the corners. “I know.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Lincoln
A sudden rap at the door intruded on McSween’s concentration. He flicked his watchcase open and checked the time with a frown. He wasn’t expecting anyone. The knock sounded again, insistent.
“Coming.” He hauled himself up from behind his desk and crossed the parlor to the lace-curtained front door. Brady, what the hell did he want?He opened the door.
“Sheriff, afternoon. What can I do for you?”
“McSween.” He held out a thick packet. “This summons come down from District Court in Las Vegas. Consider it served.”
McSween opened the packet and glanced at the heading. The documents were addressed to him as respondent in a civil suit filed on behalf of James J. Dolan as plaintiff in the matter of recovering five thousand dollars in proceeds forfeited in settlement of a certain insurance claim filed . . .
Brady produced a receipt and pen with a mocking smile. “Sign here.”
Chisum and Ledger drew up at the Wortley hitch rack, cold and tired after a long day in a chill rain-soaked saddle. The lobby door opened to a grim-faced Rob Widenmann. He stopped in his tracks.
“Afternoon, Marshal.”
He nodded. “Chisum, I’m glad you’re here. You too, Ty.I was just on my way over to see McSween. If you have the time, you might want to come along. It’ll save me havin’ to chew these oats twice.” He stepped down to the street and collected his horse.
“Somethin’ the matter?”
“Depends on who you ask.” He stepped into the saddle and swung away up the street.
Chisum pulled a puzzled look. Ty shrugged and squeezed up a trot after the marshal. Ty saw him first. He caught Chisum’s eye and lifted his chin toward the visitor leaving the McSween house.
“Brady,” Chisum said. “Wonder what that’s all about.”
They dropped rein at the McSween house and trooped up the walk after Widenmann. McSween answered the door at the first knock. He clutched a stack of official-looking papers in his hand.
“To what do I owe the honor of such a distinguished delegation?”
Widenmann cut past the pleasantries. “We need to talk. May we come in?”
The lawyer stepped back from the door with a shrug. “Have a seat in the parlor. My office won’t hold a meeting this size.”
They scattered to seats around a comfortably appointed room muted in gray light seeping through lace curtains. The soft patter of rain on the roof filled the silence.
“I’d offer you refreshments, but I’m all thumbs in the kitchen until Susan returns from the bank.”
Chisum raised a hand. “None needed, thanks anyway. All right, Marshal, out with the mystery.”
“Brewer’s men caught up with Frank Baker and Buck Morton.”
“We know. Ty here was with them.”
Widenmann arched a brow at Ledger. “Were you with them when Baker and Morton took a fatal case of lead poisoning?”
“No. Damn it. I was afraid of somethin’ like that. McCloskey and I both were. Bill said he could handle it.”
The marshal smoothed his mustache. “Well he couldn’t. He’s dead too.”
“What happened?”
“According to them left to tell about it, Baker and Morton killed McCloskey while tryin’ to escape.”
Ty scowled. “They were unarmed and in custody when I left them. Somebody must’ve made a bad mistake.”
“Kind of unusual given all those experienced men, don’t you think?”
McSween sat back riveted on Widenmann. “Are you suggesting our men murdered Baker and Morton.”
“I am and likely McCloskey too if he was of a mind to stop the killin’.”
“That’s a pretty strong charge,” Chisum said.
“There’s more. According to Justice Wilson, the governor hit town night before last.”
Chisum arched a brow. “The governor? What the hell is he doing here?”
“Called to investigate the events attending to Tunstall’s death.”
“Called by who?” Chisum said, exchanging a glance with McSween.
“Wilson didn’t say. The governor told him he’s calling out the army and declaring martial law. He ordered Wilson to withdraw Brewer’s appointment as a constable. Wilson did. Yesterday, Brady showed up demanding warrants for Brewer and his men for the murders of Frank Baker and Buck Morton.”
Chisum clenched his jaw. “Well, I guess we know how Dolan plans to protect his side of this thing.”
“Brady can’t prove his allegation and them who can, won’t talk. We all heard what the Kid said at Tunstall’s funeral. Ty and McCloskey both had concerns over the mood of Brewer and his men. You two pay those men. Throw the army in here to back Dolan’s sheriff and we’ve got an ugly situation on our hands.”
“You don’t know it was vigilante justice, Rob,” Chisum said. “Baker and Morton was rustlers and gunmen long before they murdered Tunstall.”
“They were accused of murdering Tunstall. Guilt is for a court to decide, not a posse.”
“Gentlemen, please.” McSween raised a hand for calm. “Marshal, I’m sure if you talk to Dick Brewer he can vouch for his men. John and I certainly support the need to keep our men on the side of the law. Brewer’s orders were clear.”
“Brewer made that clear to all his men,” Ty said.
Widenmann chenched his jaw. “Brewer wasn’t with the men who brought in Baker and Morton.”
McSween knit his brow. “If Wilson withdrew Brewer’s appointment, the serving of those warrants comes into question.”
“According to Brady it becomes a question of murder,” Widenmann said.
Chisum scowled. “Brady’s been a busy boy. That was him leavin’ when we rode up, wasn’t it, Alex?”
McSween nodded. “He came to serve a summons in a civil suit Dolan filed against me over an insurance claim that I settled for the Fritz family estate. I suspect it’s his way of pressuring me to sell him the bank and the store. I’m sure he’ll offer to drop the suit if I sell.”
“Hell, this whole thing smells from here to Santa Fe. We may have to appeal to a higher authority before this is all over.”
“What authority do you have in mind that’s higher than Santa Fe?”
“Territorial governors are appointed by the president.”
“You know President Hayes?”
“No, but I know somebody who does.”
“Who’s that?”
“My lawyer.”
The visitor bell clanged near closing. Lucy looked up from a bolt of fabric and smiled. Ty, god, he looks good.
He returned her smile. Sunset slashed the rumpled banks of gray cloud in the west. Golden light slanting through the store window fired her hair. Her eyes turned liquid in the muted glow between the shelves. She put aside what she’d been doing and crossed the store.
“Hi, cowboy, it’s been a while.”
A long-ago whisper echoed. “Too long.” He took his hat in hand.
“When did you hit town?”
“This afternoon. I thought I’d come by and see if maybe you’d like to have supper.”
She smiled again. Her eyes glittered as she held his. “I’d like that.”
Susan McSween watched from behind the teller counter, losing her place in balancing the drawer. She knew they were friends. The marshal had walked Lucy home a time or two. She’d always assumed where John was concerned it was no more than that. Lucy surely leaned on him during the funeral, but this was plainly something more.
“I was just about to close up. It won’t take but a minute.” She went to the counter and began totaling up the day’s receipts.
Ty noticed Susan and waved. She smiled. “You’ll be all right if I steal Lucy?”
“Oh, I’ll be just fine. Big Jim here keeps an eye on the place. He’ll see me home.”
French dozed on a chair propped up against the back wall of the store with a sawed-off shotgun cradled in his lap. Good,Ty thought, comforted by the protection and yet disturbed again at the need of it.
Lucy went to the window and turned the sign to closed.“Well that’s that. See you in the morning, Susan.” She threw her shawl around her shoulders.