The Son of Earp Box Set - Books 1-3

by Chuck Buda

  James smiled. “I had no idea you thought about me that way, Sheriff.”

  Sheriff Morgan just smirked at James’ ribbing as they rode on.

  James’ face darkened. He thought about the sad tale of the farmer, Doddy, and how he was only trying to do right by his family. He felt sorry for the man and what he had gone through. It still didn’t excuse his spirit of haunting the townspeople. But James realized that the ghost was just a vengeful remainder of a family man. He started to wonder if Crouching Bear’s spirit would come back from the dead some day. Then his mind shifted to Carson. James pictured Carson’s ghost coming back for revenge against him for lying and casting him aside. He shook the images away as fast as he could.

  “Something on your mind, son?”

  “Uh, no. Not really.”

  “You sure, cause you look like you swallowed a big serving of Castor oil after eating a tub of lard.”

  The imagery turned James’ stomach. He choked back some vomit and then tried to change the topic to free his mind. “How long has Miss Lark been in town?” He blushed as soon as the question shot out. He was embarrassed to reveal his feelings for her and of all the things he could have chosen to change the topic, this is what blurts out?

  Sheriff Morgan glanced at James. “I reckon about a year ago. Maybe less.” His eyes followed the trail. “Why do you ask?”

  James shrugged. “She said she wasn’t around last time the gunslinger came to town. And she didn’t know about Doddy and the farm.”

  “I told you. Folks don’t talk about it. Nobody wants to hang their soiled knickers on the line.”

  “Still would have helped to know that story before I went up against him.”

  “How’s that? You find any ghost-dropping bullets in the story?”

  James shook his head. Why did everyone have to be so dang sarcastic all the time? Then he apologized quietly to his mother for cussing.

  They rode on in silence for a while longer. The shadows stretched across the brush and twisted scary shapes out of lonely shrubs. James felt tired. He hadn’t slept much recently with all the stress. He couldn’t wait to get off the horse and stretch his legs either.

  The trail bent to the right through an overgrown copse of trees. Coming through the other side, James saw a fence line in need of repair and a hollowed out expanse with a heap of rubble in the middle of it.

  “This is it.” The Sheriff stopped his horse. James followed suit and both riders stared at the remnants of a once manicured little lot. A few posts stood, lonely as they stretched to the sky. A crumpled roof leaned against another post that was splintered into the shape of a fork. The lumber was charred and the black remains appeared darker against the setting sun.

  “Spooky.”

  “Yeah, this is all that’s left of Doddy’s homestead.” The Sheriff shifted in his saddle and then hopped down. “It’s a shame that nothing came of this parcel after all the blood was shed. Makes you wonder what it was all for.” He began leading his horse by the reins.

  James slid off his horse and followed the Sheriff on foot. His eyes tried to absorb the wreckage. It was literally burned to the ground. He imagined the woman and her daughter, screaming against the flames for escape. A chill ran down his spine. He wondered if their ghosts haunted this location due to their sudden death.

  Sheriff Morgan tied his horse to a section of fence that had not yet fallen into a state of disrepair. He pulled his canteen from the saddle bag and took a long swig of water. James did the same. He started to feel scared. Something in his bones told him to turn back now and run like hell. He didn’t understand where the feeling came from but it was strong. James looked behind him at the pile of burnt wood. It’s just a bunch of garbage. Nothing to be scared of.

  Then he saw the bones. The two skeletons, one was longer than the other, began crawling out of the stacks of charred lumber. Both skeletons wore dresses. Only a few swatches of cloth had color. The rest was blacker than coal and fused with the sinews and flesh still left on the bones. James’ eyes grew wide and he took several steps back.

  “You okay?”

  James looked at the Sheriff and then back at the house. There were no more skeletons. He blinked several times as he wondered what just happened.

  “Yeah…I’m okay.”

  “Good. Cause it looked like you just saw a ghost.” The Sheriff snickered softly as he took another sip of water.

  James chuckled nervously as he wiped the sweat from his brow.

  Chapter 37

  Sarah exhaled. She had spent the last half hour explaining to Carson why James lied and left him behind. Carson kept arguing back that buddies didn’t lie to each other. And he was frustrated that they had dreamed of going on adventures together since he was little. She heard the disappointment in his voice. But there were only so many times that she could go over the same territory.

  Carson stared at her as she ran her fingers through her flowing black hair. She decided to leave it down today because she had a slight headache. The bun always made her headaches worse, pulling her scalp tight.

  “So what do you want to do about this then? How can we make this better with you, Carson?”

  “I want to fight the gunslinger.”

  Sarah laughed out loud. Then she saw the seriousness on Carson’s face. Could he be serious? Now how do I dance around this one, she thought.

  “What?”

  “I want to fight the gunslinger.”

  “Sweetie, you are in no condition to leave this bed, let alone fight a ghostly apparition. That’s just silly.”

  “I’m not silly. I want to go with James.”

  Sarah almost rolled her eyes but caught herself. She didn’t want to get Carson more upset. But she was running out of patience. And she was stumped for how to talk herself out of this one. The boy had been through so much, and if she could just make him happy somehow…

  “And what would you do, if you were to magically get out of bed and find yourself by James’ side? Hm?”

  “I would help him defeat the boogiedman. I will punch him with my head like James done.”

  Sarah brought her hand to her mouth. She covered up a tiny giggle. Carson was so cute when he mispronounced things. Sarah couldn’t help herself sometimes. She just wanted to pinch his cheeks and squeeze him for being so cute.

  “Honey, it’s a ghost. If you hit it, your head would go right through. Besides, the doctor will never let you leave the hospital until you are healed.”

  “You can sneaked me out.”

  Sarah’s heart skipped a beat. Would nothing stop this kid’s determination?

  “Um, how would I do that?”

  “You can hide me in your dress and walk that way.” He nodded toward the front door.

  “I don’t think there is that much room under my dress.” She chuckled. “I don’t think that plan would work.”

  “Then I will ask Doctor Stimston if I can go home now.”

  She giggled again. “You are a little rascally one, aren’t you?

  She brushed his hair back.

  “I’m leaving whether you help me or not.”

  Sarah sat up straight. Carson’s tone was so willful and he sounded like a boy twice his age. She felt cornered and a little scared that Carson would get out. Then what? He didn’t know where James was. How would he get there? He would certainly meet his end trying to find James.

  “Honey, I think that’s enough for now. Why don’t you get some rest and we’ll talk again in the morning.” She started to kiss his cheek before she left.

  Carson turned away from her. “I’ll do it.”

  Sarah sighed. She heard James in Carson’s voice. That strong-willed determination of a young man who wants to leave a mark on the world. A young man who has no idea how much danger exists out there. A young man who has only thought things out so far. James had always been quite a handful. Now she had to deal with Carson? Sarah thought she had finally graduated from caring for impetuous little boys.


  “Carson, your condition is very serious. You are bandaged up. You can only use one arm. And what about all the blood you lost? You just aren’t strong enough to go on an adventure right now.” She rubbed his left arm.

  Carson stared at her with an angry expression. It was more than a pout. It had violence behind it. Sarah quivered with a tinge of fear. She wondered if the boy had become possessed.

  “I am going.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “No, you’re not.

  “YES I AM!” He screamed.

  Sarah looked around as the other patients and visitors stared at them. Her cheeks reddened and she lowered her voice to Carson.

  “What do you want from me?”

  “I want you to take me to James.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Then I will go by myself.”

  Sarah squeezed Carson’s arm tight. She didn’t even realize that she was doing it until he squirmed away shouting, “Ouch.” She rubbed the arm where her grip had been.

  “Fine.”

  Carson’s expression brightened.

  “Fine. You boys are going to be the death of me.”

  Carson smiled.

  Sarah tried to guilt him. It had worked so many times with James.

  “I will get you to James, if I don’t get caught and end up in jail for the rest of my days.”

  Carson kept smiling.

  “Hopefully, I won’t fall down and break my leg or get bitten by a rattlesnake.”

  He was still smiling.

  “Of course, I don’t know how I will bring you back to town once the gunslinger kills me.”

  Carson’s expression was unchanged.

  She couldn’t believe it. Her powers were useless on the special child. Sarah sighed and looked out the window. Now she was in a corner. Good going, Sarah. She pinched her leg to teach herself a lesson.

  “Very well. I will go home and pack some things. And see if I can find us a horse. Then I will be back to get you.”

  Carson’s eyes sparkled with delight.

  “Now don’t you go and say anything about this to the doctor or the nurses. Not anyone. If they know what we’re fixin’ to do then they will stop us before we start.” Part of her hoped that putting the idea in his head would be enough for him to slip up. Then they could avoid this dangerous undertaking.

  Sarah bent to kiss his cheek. She brushed his hair back and told him she would be back in a bit. As she left the hospital, her mind flashed all kinds of horrific scenarios. Getting lost in the dark. Falling off the horse. Finding a tribe of wild Indians. Getting robbed, or worse, by a gang of hooligans. There was no end to the possibilities. And none of them were good.

  She brushed a bead of sweat from her brow as she tried to ignore more nightmarish thoughts.

  Chapter 38

  James couldn’t shake the ghostly images of the gunslinger’s family. Each time he sifted through a new section of ash and rubble, he imagined the skeletons. He feared that a charred, bony hand would reach out and grasp his arm. A shudder wriggled down his legs as he kicked over what must have been some pots and pans.

  He stretched his back which was beginning to ache. A jostling horseback ride followed by lots of bending and lifting had knotted up his muscles. James looked over his shoulder. Sheriff Morgan was clearing away debris on his hands and knees.

  James faced the setting sun and admired the beautiful landscape. The fields met the sky at the horizon, a yellowed crisp against an orange canvas. He thought about how strange it was. The setting was so beautiful. Yet, the work they needed to finish was dark. And morbid. He lifted his hat and patted down his face with the back of his sleeve.

  “You gonna daydream all day or are you gonna dig in?”

  James rolled his eyes at the Sheriff before bending back to work. He rolled another pot over and then continued clearing away dust. The thought of wasting time crossed his mind. They knew they were searching for some sort of connection. But neither of them knew what it could be.

  A few minutes later, James found a book. It had a cloth cover and was covered with years of dirt. He brushed the soil from the jacket and tried to make out the print. The title was too worn to figure out what it said. James leafed through the book which seemed to contain hand drawn pictures on each page. Some of the drawings focused on detailed backgrounds. An expanse of field. A morning sunrise over the tree line. Others captured objects that tried to tell a story. Like the hand ax sticking out of a stump. Or the chicken pecking at seeds in the center of her little chicks.

  James thought the drawings were so rich and stunning. He couldn’t recall a time when he had witnessed such perfect art work. He secretly wished he could draw pictures. He thought he would show himself slaying giants and saving cattle from drowning in a deep stream. Real cowboy hero pictures.

  As he flipped through the collection a yellowed square of paper fell out. It drifted to the sand at his feet. James stared at it. He almost didn’t believe what he saw. He squatted down and picked up an old photograph. It was very dirty and he rubbed his thumb over it to clean it up a bit.

  James’ eyes absorbed each face. He assumed the picture was Doddy with his wife and daughter. The man standing in front of the homestead looked like the gunslinger. Well, James thought, if the gunslinger still had flesh on his face. The cheekbones were well pronounced, accentuated further by the thick, black sideburns. The pencil thin mustache rested above the unsmiling mouth. James noticed the same black pants with the vest. The man’s hat was rounded and flat, just like the gunslinger’s. There was no doubt in James’ mind that this was him.

  The woman wore a long, patterned dress which covered her feet. Her hands were clasped together in front of her waist. She, too, wore no smile. Her hair appeared to be lighter in color than Doddy’s. She had it braided down each shoulder like an Indian princess. Although, James could tell by her complexion that she was not Indian. Her eyes seemed set far apart over a narrow nose. It made her look a bit unattractive.

  James’ eyes followed over to the young girl. Thin arms hung down at her sides. Her skin appeared overly white, like a spoonful of butter cream. The little girl’s hair was long and straight. Like her mother, she had lighter colored hair. The striking difference was in the eyes. Unlike her parents, Sally’s eyes sparkled with wonderment. Her head was tilted back slightly and her smile encompassed her face. It looked like she was laughing when the photograph was taken.

  After studying the picture, James couldn’t help feeling sorry for the gunslinger. As bad as he was in death, Doddy was an ordinary man. Just a hardworking farmer who did his best for his small family. He and Martha looked tired and serious in stark contrast to the precociousness of little Sally. James swallowed a lump in his throat as he wished he had a normal upbringing like Sally. James never met his father. And he and his mother had always lived in small quarters above saloons. They never had a place in the wild with land to farm and raise animals. He felt jealous that he never knew that side of life.

  “Whatcha got there, kid?” Sheriff Morgan walked up to James.

  James was still a little choked up so he just waved the photograph in front of the Sheriff. He accepted the picture from James as he looked it over with a nod.

  “That’s them, alright. Sally. Martha. Doddy.” The Sheriff brushed the photo against his chest to clear the rest of the dust. “It’s a shame they had to die like that.” He handed the picture back to James, then lit a cigarette. “Think that’ll help?”

  James handed Sheriff Morgan the tattered book. “I don’t know what to think. I guess I hope it’ll mean something.”

  “Yeah, well I don’t know how much you can reason with a spirit. But it’s worth a shot. Nothing else has worked yet.”

  James took the book back from the Sheriff when he finished flipping through the pages. He tucked the photograph inside the book. James wasn’t sure how any of this wreckage was going to help. He started to second guess his decision to cha
se the gunslinger. It felt like the choices he made got incrementally worse.

  “Night will be falling soon. Best get a fire started for us. You finish sifting through this junk while I get us situated.”

  Sheriff Morgan left James alone with his thoughts. He brushed his boot back and forth over the garbage. Then he clutched the book and stared at it some more.

  Chapter 39

  Eleanor entered Miller’s General Store in a panic. It was late and she knew that Mr. Miller would be closing up shortly. She needed to pick up some ingredients for the cake she was making. Tomorrow would be a special day for the children in class because several of them would be moving on to a higher level of arithmetic. Eleanor chose to make a big deal of accomplishments so the children stayed excited about learning.

  She greeted Mr. Miller as she hurried between the rows of shelves.

  “Take your time, Miss Lark. I’m not in any hurry to close.”

  “Oh, thank you, Mr. Miller.”

  “Please. Call me, Ed. I’ve told you countless times to just call me Ed.” Mr. Miller smiled at her as he approached. “Maybe I can help you find what you are looking for?”

  “Oh, yes. That would be wonderful.” She tried to catch her breath as she shared her list with Ed. He looked over the ingredients and started to collect the items from his shelves. Eleanor relaxed a bit and followed him around the store.

  “Looks like someone is baking a cake. Special occasion?”

  “Yes, the school children are celebrating an achievement tomorrow. So I thought I would bring something sweet to eat.” She smiled and clasped her hands together.

  “If I had a teacher as thoughtful as you when I was a boy, I might have lasted more than a few months.”

  “Don’t be silly. A successful businessman like yourself must have gone through more education than a few months.”

  “I actually didn’t.”

  Eleanor dropped her jaw in shock. Mr. Miller rounded an aisle and kept searching for her items while he continued.