Texas Iron

by Robert J. Randisi

  “You recognize any of these people?” Sam asked.

  “Not many,” Evan said.

  “Some were children when I left,” Sam said, “and are hard to recognize now.”

  “Some were not so elderly,” Evan said, “and are also hard to recognize.”

  “I know some of them,” Jubal said, “but it ain’t me they’re pointing at.”

  “Oh?” Evan said.

  “It’s him,” Jubal said, jerking his thumb at his older brother. “Big Sam McCall. They’re afraid of him.”

  “Are they?” Evan asked.

  “Well, sure they are,” Jubal said. “They know how many men he’s killed, just as I do.”

  “Do you?” Sam asked. “How do you know how many men I’ve killed?”

  “Well…I heard, and I read the papers—”

  “And you believe all of that?”

  “Well, ain’t it true?”

  “Some of it, yes.”

  “What do you mean, some of it?”

  “I mean just that,” Sam said. “It ain’t all true. I’ve killed men, yes, but only if they were tryin’ to kill me.”

  “You mean you ain’t killed all those men they say you killed?” Jubal sounded betrayed.

  “Jubal,” Sam said, “grow up.”

  Jubal looked at Evan.

  “What’s he mean by that?”

  “He means you shouldn’t always believe what you hear, or what you read.”

  “What are you supposed to believe, then?”

  “You believe what you see, Jube,” Sam said. “That’s the best rule to follow.”

  Jubal was thinking that over when they reached the Miller house.

  “He’s kept it up well,” Sam said, as they opened the gate and entered the yard.

  They mounted the steps and knocked on the door. After a moment Jubal reached to knock again.

  “Easy,” Evan said, intercepting his hand. “Give them a chance to answer.”

  They waited a few minutes and then the door swung inward. The woman who was standing there was so much more than just pretty that they were all struck momentarily dumb.

  “Yes?” she said, and then suddenly recognition dawned in her eyes. It wasn’t so much that she recognized them as that she knew that the three of them could only be the McCall brothers.

  “I knew you’d come.”

  Sam was the first to speak.

  “Tell me, ma’am, how you knew that?”

  “I just knew,” she said. “I felt it. You’re Sam, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “And Evan? And, of course, Jubal. I recognize you now. You’ve grown.”

  Jubal looked annoyed at the comment, but said nothing.

  “Well, come in,” she said, stepping back from the door. “Did you only just arrive?”

  “Yes,” Sam said, “only a couple of hours ago.”

  She closed the door and turned to face them. They had all removed their hats and were holding them in their hands.

  “Do you want to take off your coats?”

  “We’ll keep them if you don’t mind, ma’am,” Sam said.

  “Oh God, don’t call me that,” Serena said. “You boys know my name.”

  “I reckon we do, Serena,” Sam said.

  “Who have you spoken to so far?”

  “The Swede,” Jubal said, “the sheriff and Doc Leader.”

  “So you’ve heard the verdict, then.”

  “It’s all lies,” Jubal said.

  “That’s what we think, too.”

  Jubal gave his brothers a triumphant look.

  “We heard about your father,” Sam said. “How is he?”

  “Sore, but he wants to get out of bed.”

  “Can we see him?”

  “Of course,” she said. “I’ll take you to him.”

  They followed Serena Miller through the living room and up the stairs to the second floor.

  “Let me see if he’s awake.”

  “I’m awake,” her father’s voice called. “How could I not be with so many people traipsing through the hall? Is that you, Sam McCall?”

  “It’s me, Dude,” Sam said.

  “Go on in,” she said, stepping aside. “I’ll get you some coffee.”

  “Thanks,” Evan said.

  They stepped into the room and Sam was shocked when he saw Dude Miller. The man had aged so. His hair was white, the bones of his face looked as if they were trying to push out through his flesh. Sam wondered…if his father were still alive, would he look like this as well?

  “Dude.”

  “Sam,” Miller said. “Boys, how are you?”

  “We’re fine, Mr. Miller.”

  “Jubal, is that you?” Miller said, peering at Jubal.

  “You’ve—”

  “Yeah, I know, I’ve grown.”

  “I wish I could get up and greet you proper but Doc insists I stay in bed. Got some cracked ribs.”

  “Do you know who it was did this to you, Dude?” Sam asked.

  “Didn’t see anyone’s face, if that’s what you mean,” Miller said. “Can’t describe anyone to the sheriff, not that it would matter.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He means we know who did it,” Serena said frombehind them. “We can’t prove it, but even if we could, the sheriff wouldn’t do anything about it.”

  She entered the room carrying a tray with three steaming cups of coffee on it. Sam knew from the smell it would be better coffee than the sheriff’s.

  “Thank you,” he said, taking one. “You want to explain that to me a little better?”

  “They had to be Lincoln Burkett’s men,” Miller said from the bed.

  “Burkett,” Sam said. “I don’t know the name.”

  “I do,” Evan said.

  They all looked at him.

  “I was in the Dakotas when he had a spread up there. That was several years ago. What’s he doing down here?”

  “Who knows?” Miller said. “All we know is that he arrived with a lot of money, and a lot of men, and started taking over the county, and the town. He owns a big spread, some businesses here, he’s got the town council buffaloed, and the sheriff is his.”

  “That’s an awful lot for one man to bite off,” Sam said.

  “Well, he’s bitten it off, chewed it, and swallowed it, and he’s still hungry.”

  “Why would he send men to beat up on you?”

  “Because I’m opposed to him,” Miller said. “He’s got most of the people hereabouts thinking that he’s good for the town, but the only thing he’s good for is Lincoln Burkett.”

  “Sounds like you’ve got your work cut out for you, opposin’ him,” Sam said.

  “Us?” Serena asked. “What about you?”

  Sam looked at her.

  “Well, ma’am—Serena, what Burkett does ain’t none of our business. We just came to find out what happened to our Ma and Pa.”

  “They were killed, that’s what happened.”

  “Well, we know that, but by who and why? That’s our business.”

  “Then your business and our business is the same,” she said.

  “Serena—”

  “Papa, come on. You know that Burkett killed their parents.”

  Sam gave Miller a sharp look.

  “What about that, Dude?”

  “That’s something else we can’t prove,” Miller said.

  “But do you believe it?”

  “I…suspect it.”

  “Why? Did the death of our parents benefit Lincoln Burkett?”

  “Actually, if you look at it that way, no.”

  “He owns your father’s spread!” Serena said.

  “What?” Evan said.

  “He bought it,” Miller said. He looked at Sam and said, “He already owned it when your parents were killed. Killing them didn’t benefit him that I can see.”

  “Unless our Pa was opposing him, too,” Evan said.

  “Was he?”

  Miller lo
oked away.

  “Dude?” Sam said. “There’s somethin’ stickin’ in Doc Leader’s craw. Do you know what it is?”

  “Again,” Miller said, “I suspect…”

  “Suspect what?” Evan asked.

  “Doc examined your parents,” Serena said quickly. “He knows your father didn’t kill himself.”

  Sam started to look annoyed.

  “There seems to be a lot of suspectin’ and supposin’ goin’ on here.”

  “Then maybe you’d better start trying to find out the facts,” Serena suggested.

  “That’s what we came here to do.”

  “Then the quicker you do, the quicker you’ll see that your fight and our fight are the same.”

  Sam looked away from Serena toward her father.

  “Dude, where were Ma and Pa livin’?”

  “A small adobe house about three miles out of town,” Miller said. “They moved there after your father sold the spread.”

  “I don’t understand this!” Jubal said. “Pa would never sell that ranch.”

  “Well, he did,” Miller said. “The sale is on record at the courthouse.”

  “Well, we’ll look into that as well,” Sam said. He put his coffee cup, barely touched, down on the end table.

  When Evan and Jubal put theirs down they were empty.

  “Dude, we’ll look in on you again.”

  “I’ll show you out,” Serena said.

  She led Evan and Jubal out into the hall, but Miller said, “Sam? Stay a minute.”

  “I’ll be right out,” Sam said to the others. He turned to Miller and asked, “What is it?”

  “Serena’s a little bull-necked about this, Sam,” Miller said. “Being on my back and all, I can’t protect her if Burkett decides to send some more men—”

  “Don’t worry, Dude,” Sam said. “We’ll keep an eye on her.”

  “I’d be much obliged for that, Sam.”

  “It’s the least we can do, Dude, you sendin’ that telegram and all. Speakin’ of that, how the hell did you know where I was?”

  “I didn’t,” Miller said. “I heard tell you were in Montana, and I must’ve sent out dozens of those telegrams to different towns.”

  Sam thought that over a moment and then started laughing.

  “What’s so funny?” Miller asked.

  “Well, if you knew how that telegram affected the people in Corozon, Montana, you’d laugh too at the thought that there were dozens of towns in Montana waitin’ for me to show up.”

  “I hope I didn’t cause you any trouble.”

  “No trouble, Dude,” Sam assured him. “I’m obliged to you for sendin’ it, or we might never have known.”

  “There’s some shame in that, Sam,” Miller said. “You probably never would have known because you boys never came around.”

  “Now Dude, I heard enough of that from Doc.”

  Miller raised his hand and waggled it, saying, “I ain’t gonna judge you, Sam. It’s just a shame, is all.”

  “I agree with you, Dude,” Sam said, “there just ain’t a whole hell of a lot I can do about it now.”

  Sam left the room and went downstairs, where Evan and Jubal were talking to Serena.

  “Serena, would you be so kind as to tell us where our parents are buried?”

  “Near the house.”

  “The ranch house?”

  “No,” she said, “the adobe house they…they died in.”

  “Pa always talked about him and Ma being buried on the ranch,” Jubal said.

  “I know,” Sam said. “Jubal, you know how to use that gun you’re wearin’?”

  “Well enough, I reckon. Why?”

  “You’re stayin’ here with Serena.”

  “I am not!”

  “Yes, you are.”

  “That’s not necessary—” Serena started.

  “I promised your Pa we’d look out for you until he got back on his feet. It’s the least we can do. Jubal? You gonna make a liar out of me?”

  “Are you and Evan gonna spell me here?”

  “We are.”

  “Well, then…all right, but don’t take too long.”

  “Well be back soon enough,” Sam said. “Evan?”

  Sam and Evan left the yard, closing the gate behind them.

  “Where to now?” Evan asked.

  “Well, we can go to the bank and see if Pa left behind any unsettled accounts, then we can go over to the courthouse and check on the sale of the ranch. After that we’ll collect Jubal and go out to the gravesite, and look at the house where they died.”

  “What about Serena?”

  “Maybe we’ll just take her with us. After that, one of us will come back here with her.”

  “And the other two?”

  “By that time,” Sam said, “A visit to Mr. Lincoln Burkett will be in order.”

  Soon after the McCalls had left his office Sheriff Tom Kelly left, went to the livery, saddled his horse, and rode out to what was once the McCall ranch and was now the Burkett place.

  As he rode up to the house and reigned his horse in off a gallop, he attracted a lot of attention, including that of Chuck Conners, the foreman.

  As Kelly dismounted and started for the house Conners intercepted him.

  “Whoa, there, Sheriff,” Conners said. “What’s the hurry?”

  “I got something to tell Mr. Burkett.”

  “Well, you tell me and I’ll tell him.”

  Kelly considered this for a moment, then nodded.

  “They’re in town.”

  “Who’s in town?”

  “The McCalls?”

  Conner’s eyes widened with interest.

  “Sam McCall?”

  “And his brothers,” Kelly said, and then added, “and they’re asking questions.”

  “Well, of course they are,” Conners said, rubbing his lantern jaw. “Wouldn’t you if you found out your parents were dead?”

  “Mr. Burkett’s got to know—”

  “Don’t you worry, Sheriff,” Conners said. “I’ll let Mr. Burkett know, and I’ll tell him it was you who brought the information. He’ll be grateful.”

  “Well…all right.”

  “Now…what did you tell them?”

  “What everybody knows, that their Pa shot their Ma and then himself.”

  “Nothing else?”

  “What else would I tell them, Conners?”

  “I’m just asking to make sure, Sheriff. See, Mr. Burkett’s going to ask me.”

  “Well, I didn’t tell them nothing else.”

  “Good. And who else have they talked to?”

  “They said they was gonna talk to Doc, and to Dude Miller.”

  “Miller,” Conners said, nodding. “We know what he’ll tell them.”

  “What should I do?”

  “Just go back to town and keep an eye on them, Sheriff,” Conners said, clapping the man on the back. “That’s all you have to do—for now.”

  Chapter Eight

  As Sam and Evan McCall entered the small Bank of Vengeance Creek the bank president, James Boland, stood up behind his desk, but did not come around. He fidgeted from one foot to the other as the two brothers approached his desk.

  “You the bank president?” Sam asked.

  “That’s right,” Boland said. “What can I do for you gentlemen?”

  There was only one other person in the bank, a bored-looking clerk standing behind a caged window.

  “We’re the sons of Joshua and Miriam McCall.”

  “I see. Terrible thing. You have my sympathy.”

  “Thank you,” Evan said. “We’re here to see if our parents left any unsettled accounts behind. If so, we’d like to settle them.”

  “Unsettled accounts?” the bank president said. “No, no unsettled accounts.”

  “You know that without looking it up?” Sam asked.

  “Oh, yes, yes indeed,” Boland said. “I am, after all, the president of the bank. I look at every account personall
y.”

  “I see,” Evan said. “What about the house they were living in?”

  “It was theirs.”

  “Theirs?”

  “Yes, they owned it outright. I believe it was included in the sale of their ranch.”

  Evan looked at Sam, who shrugged.

  “All right,” Evan said. “What about the estate? Did my father have a lawyer in town?”

  “No, no lawyer,” Mr. Boland said, “and there was no estate.”

  “What do you mean, no estate?” Sam asked. “What about the money from the sale of the ranch?”

  “I don’t know anything about that,” Boland said. “All I can tell you is that there is no estate.”

  “Did my father have an account here?”

  “He did,” Boland said, “and he still does, but it’s empty.”

  “Empty?”

  “Completely.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t have anything else to tell you, uh, sir.”

  “It’s all right,” Evan said, cutting Sam off. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  As Sam and Evan McCall left, John Boland sat down heavily behind his desk and heaved a sigh of relief.

  Outside Sam said, “What the hell—”

  “Let’s go to the courthouse and check on the sale,”

  Evan said. “I don’t like the way this smells.”

  They stopped at the courthouse next and told the clerk they wanted to look at some sale records.

  “Which one?”

  “The McCall ranch.”

  “When was the sale completed?” the man asked.

  Evan was about to answer when Sam reached past him and grabbed the front of the clerk’s shirt. He jerked him forward across the counter so hard that his wire-framed glasses fell off.

  “Look,” Sam said, “Lincoln Burkett bought the property. I’m sure you know where all the records of Burkett’s purchases are.”

  “Oh, Mr. Burkett?” the clerk said. “Why didn’t you say so?”

  “I’m saying so now.”

  “Of course,” the man said, “I’ll get it for you.”

  Sam released the man, who grabbed for his glasses and backed away from them.

  “Sometimes it doesn’t pay to be too patient,” Sam said.

  “I guess not.”

  “First Doc acts like he doesn’t know nothin’, and then the bank president acts like he knows everythin’,” Sam said. “I didn’t feel like playin’ games with this one.”

  “You don’t have to explain anything to me, Sam.”