The Western Justice Trilogy

by Gilbert, Morris

  The couple turned to see Judge Parker and his wife.

  “Hello, Judge,” Ty said. “This is Leoma Jordan. Her family bought the Manning ranch.”

  “Hello, Miss Jordan. It is nice to meet you. And this is my wife, Mary,” Parker said. “She is the woman who keeps me safe. Well, she won’t let me dance with any pretty women,” Parker said and winked at Leoma.

  “Why, Judge, I will so. You go right ahead.”

  “No, I’m claiming you, my dear. Let’s go. By the way, how’s the ranch going?”

  “Very good. Very good indeed. We appreciate your interest.”

  “No trouble with the sheepherders?”

  “No, not a bit.”

  “I met some of them, Judge,” Ty said. “Real serious men. Good men, I think.”

  “Let’s keep it that way.”

  “Good to meet you, Miss Jordan,” Mrs. Parker said. Judge Parker led his wife onto the dance floor.

  Ty turned to Leoma. “Now, how about a dance? I’m not very good.”

  She grinned. “I’m very good, so you just let me lead.”

  Ty laughed. “You women always want to lead. All right, that suits me.”

  They had two more dances, and then Leoma was chosen by several other men for dances.

  Ty was getting refreshments when he heard a man cursing. He saw the man had a gun. He had left his own at home. When the man raised the gun, Ty could see he was totally drunk. “Leoma, get down!” Ty cried. He threw himself forward and pushed her to the floor, but at the same time he felt that someone had slapped him on the back, and he thought, Who would be hitting me on the back? Then he realized it was a bullet and not a hand that had struck the blow.

  There were several marshals, and they grabbed the drunk and hustled him out of the room.

  Aaron Jordan came over at once. “Are you all right, Leoma?”

  “I am, but Ty took the bullet. Put himself right in the way of it between me and that drunk.”

  “Well, we are in your debt, Ty. We are indeed.”

  Judge Parker came over and said, “Well, they got him corralled. What about you?”

  Ty grimaced. “Well, I got a bullet hole, but I’ll live.”

  “We’re going to get you to the doctor, and then you need to come home with us to recover,” Aaron Jordan said. “We’ve got plenty of room and two good nurses, Leoma here and my wife.”

  “Why, there’s no call for that. I’ll be all right,” Ty protested.

  “No,” Parker said. “You just go along with Mr. Jordan here. This will take more out of you than you now realize. Don’t let him come back until he’s fit, Mr. Jordan.”

  “I’ll see to that. Now, come along. We’re going to get you in a wagon.”

  Ty went protesting, but he was outvoted. As a matter of fact, he did feel somewhat weak, and the wound was becoming very painful. He knew the shock was wearing off. He felt himself slip into unconsciousness as the wagon hurried through the streets of Fort Smith.

  Ty awoke confused, then realized he was in the Jordans’ wagon and they were on their way to their home. He felt the bandages covering his wound and winced as he tried to sit up.

  Leoma sat beside him and kept him from rising. “You need to stay put now. We don’t want that wound to start bleeding again. How are you feeling?”

  “All right, I guess. It’s really not all that much. I’ve been shot before worse than this.”

  “Well, we’ll get you home and put you to bed so you can rest.”

  “Sounds like I’m nothing but a burden.”

  “That other woman. She had to take care of you, too, when you were sick.”

  “Well, I like being taken care of. Haven’t had much experience, but you just pamper me all you want.”

  Raina and her father got along fine. She discovered that the dream of his heart was to build a church somewhere in the territory.

  “There’s plenty of folks need the Lord,” he said. “Maybe you can help me.”

  Raina had found that she had a real affection for her father.

  After being there a couple of days, she knew she needed to go to town for her things. She told her pa, “I’m going to town to get my things and to get some supplies.”

  “Take your gun with you,” her father said.

  “I’ll go along to be sure she’s all right,” Mikel said. Mikel was a nice-looking man somewhere in his early thirties. She questioned him a great deal as they rode along. She had hoped to find out more about him, but he said little about his own life.

  “Look, there’s the Jordan ranch,” she said. “Let’s stop there and see if they need anything from town.”

  “I may not be welcome. They don’t like sheepherders.”

  “They may be a little bit nervous, but we’ll just stop for a moment.”

  As they approached the porch of the house, she saw to her shock Ty Kincaid sitting in a rocker with an arm in a sling. Leoma Jordan sat beside him.

  “Hello, Leoma.” She stepped off her horse. “Ty, what happened to you?”

  “Oh, a little accident. Hello, Mikel.”

  Raina looked at Leoma. “Do forgive my rudeness. This is Mikel. He works for my pa.”

  Mikel nodded at Ty and Leoma.

  Raina then spoke plainly. “Now, tell me what happened to you, Ty Kincaid.”

  “He took a bullet for me,” Leoma said, and she told of the incident at the dance. “Might’ve hit me in the heart.” She smiled. “So I’m taking care of him.” She laughed aloud then, and there was humor in her face. “Ty, it looks like you make a big thing of letting women take care of you.”

  “I like it that way. That’s what women are for, to take care of us helpless men.”

  “I’m going into town. Can I bring you anything back, Leoma?”

  “No, my father has gone there.”

  “Well, I’ll stop back on the way and see how you’re doing, Ty.”

  “How are you making it with your father?” he asked.

  “Oh, I like him very much.”

  Leoma frowned. “I hope he’s going to keep the woolies off of our ranch.”

  “I heard he brought all the sheepherders together and told them plainly to stay off Running J Ranch. I don’t think you have anything to worry about. He’s a strict man, and he’ll work with you.”

  “That sounds good,” Leoma said. “Come back in time for a meal.”

  “I’ll probably be in a hurry, but thanks for the offer.”

  As they rode out, Raina said to Mikel, “That could have been serious. That bullet could have hit him in the head or in the heart.”

  “Not according to your father. He said everything happens according to a plan.”

  “Yes, I know. Do you believe that?”

  “I don’t know what I believe.”

  “I guess I don’t either, but I’m not giving up hope.”

  PART THREE

  CHAPTER 14

  The main street of Fort Smith was practically empty. It was not a day for hangings, and the afternoon had fallen with the sun coming down in the west like a huge yellow ball. A mustard-colored dog ambled out of the Lucky Star Saloon, walked a few feet, and then plopped down and began to scratch his ears with a lazy motion.

  “Look at that dog, Ty.” Heck Thomas was sitting in his usual position with a straight-backed chair leaning back against the wall. There was no trouble, so there was no call for Heck’s law-keeping abilities, and as usual when he had nothing else to do, he whittled on a piece of cedar. At his feet lay a pile of shavings as evidence that he had been at this task for quite a while.

  “You look about as tired as I feel, Heck.” Ty was sitting beside Heck, his hat pulled down over his eyes to keep out the rays of the dying sun. He had been back in Fort Smith for a couple of days after his recovery time with the Jordans. He was still on light duty as his shoulder was pretty stiff and could affect his shooting ability. “I wish I didn’t have any more worries than that critter.”

  Heck grinned and shot a glan
ce at Ty. “He does have an easy life, don’t he? Just a bit of food, a place to sleep. Wish I had it that easy.”

  “No you don’t, Heck. You’d go crazy with nothing to do.”

  “I reckon you’re right, Ty. I tried it once. I had some money saved up, tried just being a bum, but I couldn’t make it. I have to have my hand in something. As a matter of fact, I’m surprised we haven’t had more action from these so-called outlaws.”

  Ty looked over at Heck with surprise. “Why do you call them ‘so-called’?”

  “Aw, the writers of them westerns that’s comin’ out like popcorn now, they always make the outlaws seem like heroes. You take all them stories about Wild Bill Hickok. He wasn’t nothin’ but a two-bit crook! They made him out to be a hero who kept the law, but he broke it. His favorite way was to sneak up behind somebody and shoot ’em in the back of the head. That’s the kind of hero he was.”

  “Yeah, I tried to read one of those once. It didn’t seem like it was very lifelike.”

  “Lifelike! There ain’t nothin’ lifelike about ’em. You take these fellows we’ve been chasin’….”

  “What fellows is that, Heck?” Ty asked lazily. His eyes scanned the streets, but there was no trouble, and if there had been, there was a sheriff to take care of the town trouble. The marshals all spent their time in Indian Territory.

  “Why, you heard of Jesse James.”

  “Sure. Everybody’s heard of the James boys.”

  “Yep. Frank and Jesse. They’ve written a dozen of them little novels about ’em, all makin’ heroes out of ’em, and you know they even came here and served as marshals for a while.”

  This information caused Ty to open his eyes. “I didn’t know that, Heck. Why did Judge Parker hire them?”

  “They didn’t have no reputation back then, but they could ride and they could shoot.”

  “Were they good marshals?”

  “Not worth spit! They went out and broke the very laws they were supposed to enforce. One Indian wouldn’t buy any of their rotgut whiskey, so Jesse just pulled his gun out and shot him right in the head. Killed him dead. They didn’t last long. Judge Parker found out they were worthless and ran ’em off.”

  “Well, that’s not the way the stories make them out. They call him the Robin Hood of the West. Robbing rich people and giving it to the poor.”

  “Huh! I’d say that’s about as big a lie as you could tell.” Heck grunted. He carefully peeled off another long sliver of the cedar, sniffed the stick he had left, and said, “Cedar smells better than anything, don’t it?”

  “Pretty good, I guess.”

  Heck peeled off several slivers, watching them curl and fall to his feet. He had a nice pile there, and he would gather them all up and put them in his bed to make it smell good. It was a peculiarity of the famous marshal, Heck Thomas, that few people knew about. “And then there’s those Dalton brothers. You heard of them, I guess.”

  “Sure. They were bank robbers mostly, weren’t they?”

  “Yeah, there’s Grat and Bob, his brother. They made most of the trouble. They were marshals for a while. You know it’s a funny thing, they could have been great marshals. Grat was smart, and Bob was good with a gun. They did pretty well for a while here as marshals. Brought in some wanted men, but they didn’t last either. Now they’re out there stealin’ and shootin’ and killin’. We got orders to bring ’em in dead or alive.”

  “I guess they might be a little bit hard to take.”

  “I could take both of them with one hand.” Heck suddenly grinned and turned to face Kincaid. “I sound like one of them boasters down at the saloon, don’t I?”

  “Well, you’re not that.”

  The two sat silently, soaking up the last rays of the sun. Heck folded his knife and stuck it in his pocket. Then he carefully gathered up the shavings and put them into a small cotton sack he carried for that purpose. He leaned back in his chair and said, “You know, I’ve been watchin’ you, Ty.”

  “I figured you would be. You keep an eye on all your marshals.”

  “Well, you know what? I don’t think you’re happy bein’ a marshal.”

  Surprised by Heck’s astute analysis of his mind-set, Ty Kincaid looked at the marshal and asked, “What makes you think that?”

  “Well,” Heck said slowly, “bein’ a marshal ain’t for everybody. It’s a one-way street. We’ve lost fifty men, killed, and what have they got to show for it?”

  “Nothing, I guess, except they were trying to do their job.”

  “Some were and some weren’t. It’s a sorry enough job, Ty. It’s a wonder we’re able to get any men a-workin’ at it. The pay is practically nothing. It’s dangerous. You can get killed just walkin’ around in the Indian Territory.”

  “Well, I’ve got to admit I was glad to get the job. I was pretty low down and felt pretty useless. At least this way I feel like I’m doing a job that needs doing.”

  “Oh, I guess that’s what some of the fellows do, but for others it’s just a job. They get out there and get infected by all the criminals on every hand. The Indians cheatin’ each other. Of course they got the Indian police to take care of ’em, but there’s enough white gunmen out there to keep Judge Parker’s court busy.”

  “Different kinds of men, I guess.”

  “That’s what I’m tryin’ to tell you, Ty.” Heck Thomas was not a handsome man. He was hard and smart and knew how to handle men, and now he turned to face Ty and said, “You know, Kincaid, you’re not fitted for this job. Oh, I know you can do it, but it ain’t good for you. You need to find a better way to live.”

  Ty Kincaid did not speak, for he had been thinking exactly the same thing. Finally he sighed and said, “Well, I did what I had to do, Heck. I guess I’ll stay at it for a while.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t. You’re too good a man to waste, but you’re a good marshal. I need all that kind of man I can get.”

  Raina brought a piece of apple pie on a small cracked plate and set it down before her father. “There, Pa, see how you like that pie.” He looked down at the pie, and then he grinned. “Well, what a nice surprise.”

  “Taste it. See if it’s any good.”

  He took the fork, cut off the end of the wedge, and stuck it in his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully, and then his eyes opened wide. “Why, this is as good a pie as I ever ate in my life.”

  “Oh, you eat anything. You throw it back in your mouth, and you don’t chew. I’m surprised you taste anything.”

  “That ain’t so, daughter. Since you’ve been here cookin’ for me, I must have gained five pounds.”

  Raina sat down and for a while just listened to her father as he talked about the sheep and the job.

  Finally he turned and gave her an intent look. “I’ve been wondering about you, daughter.”

  “What about me?”

  “Well, I’ve been wondering what you really want.” Pa shrugged, ate the last bite of pie, and then swallowed it. “You want more than just chasin’ around after a bunch of sheep.”

  “Well, if it’s good enough for you, it’s good enough for me.”

  Pa shook his head. “No, that ain’t so. What do you really want if you could have anything you ask for?”

  “Well, I’d like a place and a family. I guess every woman wants that. What do you want, Pa?”

  “To serve God.”

  “Why, you’re a Christian now.”

  “I know, but that ain’t enough.” He put the fork down, then picked the plate up and licked it until it was clean. “Now you don’t have to wash it.” He grinned at her. “Well, I tell you, daughter, what I really want to do. These poor Indians out here, they worship them heathen idols of theirs. Ain’t got no more religion than a stick. They think they do, but they ain’t. I want to start a church, a real church, that will hold up the Lord Jesus Christ as the Way for all men to follow.”

  “Do you think the Indians would come?”

  Pa’s eyes brightened, and he nodded vehement
ly. “Yeah, they would come. Where the Gospel is preached, they will come. So I want to start a church. Not a town church where you wear a white shirt and a fancy tie and a black suit. I want to start a church where these Indians, who don’t have much anyhow, can have hope of a life after this one.”

  “I don’t know if they would come to a church.”

  “Jesus said, ‘If I be lifted up, I’ll draw all men unto me,’” he said firmly. “The Indians would come, and some of these outlaws would come. Just down-and-outers, all of them losers.”

  Raina was quiet for a while, and then she leaned forward, picked up her father’s hand, and held it as she prayed and asked the Lord to come into her heart. She looked up and felt a lightness in her heart. She told her father what she had just done.

  He looked at her with surprise and then with a happy light. “Praise the Lord!” He hugged her for several minutes. “It’s so good to have you here, daughter. I just want to see you have a good life.”

  “Well, God’s given me a father. That’s what I came here for. Now I want to give God whatever I can.”

  “Well, praise the Lord! We’ll do it, daughter,” he exclaimed. “We’ll start this church, me and you. You do the singin’, and I’ll do the preachin’.”

  Raina knew that the Lord now dwelled in her heart. She had found her father, she had found a place, and now she was determined to serve God. “All right, Pa. We’ll do it, you and me.”

  The five men sat around a rickety table in a filthy room. It was a room devoid of any woman’s care. Dirty dishes were piled on a table close to a pump. The food had hardened in them, and the men’s method was to scrape them off with a knife before they filled them up again. There had once been wallpaper in the room, but it was peeling off now and revealed the bare boards of the house.

  The men themselves were as slovenly dressed as the room was adorned, except for one man. Johnny Taylor was only seventeen, but through some miracle he had developed a sense of pride in his appearance. His clothes were clean and fairly new, his hair was cut, and the men in his brother’s band often called him Dandy Johnny.

  Johnny was only of medium height. He had tow-colored hair, neatly trimmed, and pale blue eyes. He was by far the youngest man, for at the table was Grat Dalton and his brother, Bob, both hardened outlaws.