Luke Zane and the Bushwhacker

by Dora Okeyo

  "Wait a goldarned minute, sheriff," Zane said. "I ain't done nothing but get shot! Don't seem fair to have to spend the night in jail."

  Miss Sally put a soft hand on his unhurt arm. "Now, Mr. Zane, don't you fret. The sheriff is the finest man in these parts. He's just looking out for your safety is all."

  Luke didn't much like it, but he also didn't much see that he had any choice in the matter.

  Thaddeus Gipson came bustling out of his warehouse. He had a shirt in his hand. "Seeing as how I can see you are good for it, here's you a new shirt to take the place of one Miss Sally had to cut off you. And you can use my buckboard to take him to jail, sheriff."

  "I thank you kindly," Luke said. The sheriff helped him get one arm into the shirt and draped the other over his bandaged shoulder.

  "It looks as if there's some varmint loose, Mr. Gipson; are you going be safe here on your own?" Sally asked, a concerned look on her pretty face.

  Thaddeus Gipson patted her on the shoulder. "Don't you worry about me none. I don't intend to stay out here on my own until Rhodes here finds out who about has the itchy trigger finger. This is a law abiding town, and we ain't going to stand for nothing like this. I'll just climb into the back with Mr. Zane here, right after I lock up."

  ***

  Luke leaned back against the side of the grocer's buckboard. It was near dark and looked like they was about a mile or so from town; he could see lights gleaming from windows already. They'd be at the outskirts directly. Jessie and Buck, on long tethers behind, looked as tired as he felt. He reached up and touched the bandage on his head, then patted the saddlebags beside him that held the gold he'd brought. It was all there, near as he could judge.

  He just wished he could remember what had happened.

  The gentle jolting must have made him doze a little. The next time he looked up, the sheriff was reining in the horses in front of a small building with bars in the windows.

  Luke didn't like it. He'd spent some time in jail before, but he never had gone willingly. A chill went over him, and not just because of the cool evening air. But he didn't see that he rightly had much choice.

  The sheriff pulled back on the reins and the sturdy little horse stopped the buckboard in front of the jail. Rhodes scrambled down first, then the wagon appeared to be in the midst of an earthquake as Mr. Gipson got out of the back and struggled into the seat beside Sally. He picked up the reins and said over his shoulder, "I'll take your horses over to the livery stable, then drop Miss Sally off on my way home, Mr. Zane."

  "Much obliged," said Luke gruffly.

  "At first light, I'll retrace your trail, Zane, and see what I can find out," Rhodes said as he helped Luke out of the wagon.

  "I'll be going with you," Luke said.

  "Mayhap you will, and mayhap you won't," said the sheriff as he led Luke into the jail.

  ***

  The next morning, a wonderful smell woke Luke. Bacon. Coffee. And was that the odor of fresh biscuits? He opened one eye.

  Miss Sally was outside his cell—unlocked, and the door wide open, which was a new experience for him—and was taking napkins off a tray.

  "Now don't you argue with me, Jeremiah Rhodes," she said, her hands on her hips. "I'm going to see what's out there. Mr. Gipson lent me his buckboard. We don't want Mr. Zane to be in the saddle while he's wounded, do we?"

  Luke hid a grin at the expression on the sheriff's face. It was a mixture of stubbornness, disagreement and helplessness. Yessir, the sheriff sure had it bad.

  The breakfast, good as it was, didn't take long to clear away and Luke soon found himself in the buckboard, with both his revolvers and his rifle and sitting right beside Miss Sally Joiner, who held the reins competently in her slender hands. Sheriff Rhodes was on a big roan gelding beside them.

  "Now, iffen we run into trouble, I want you to turn this buckboard around and light out for town straightaway, you hear me?" he said as they rode away from the jail.

  Miss Sally did not reply. Instead, she winked at Luke and said, "I feel as safe as houses, sheriff, indeed I do. You're armed and so is Mister Zane here."

  They reached Gipson's warehouse right at full daybreak and headed towards the stand of stunted trees about a half a mile on the other side.

  "I see some blood here and there, and the marks of a couple of horses" said Rhodes.

  "He did bleed quite a bit, didn't he?" asked Sally.

  Yessir indeedy, Luke thought in admiration. She is quite a pistol!

  The trees ended and Luke could see the very spot where he'd stopped to drink and water his horses. He could recall clearly the big boulder that the stream lapped on one side. Yesterday there'd been nothing to see.

  Today, though, there was a plenty.

  Two dark shapes stretched out beside the gently flowing water. A buzzard gave a complaining squawk and took to the air as they approached.

  Rhodes slid down from his horse in one fluid motion and knelt beside the first figure. He turned the unresisting body over. "This here is Lester Floyd, and I'm guessing that's gonna be his brother Jake. I've had my suspicions about these two for a while, and the whole rest of the Floyd boys. Trouble is the middle name of that whole dern family." He got to his feet and dusted off his hands, then looked up at the buckboard. "Mr. Zane, I'm sorry about this. Cartersville is a good town, but there's rotten apples in most every barrel."

  "Appears to me that these boys must have shot Mr. Zane and then had a falling out, sheriff," said Sally Joiner. "And then Mr. Zane here managed to get back on his horse and ride away without any recollection of it. Look there. They've both still got their guns in their hands."

  Indeed, each stiff hand held a revolver.

  "Yes'm, it's pretty clear what must have happened, all righty. They thought they'd got them something, then commenced to argue over it. I know them Floyds all got tempers, and their pappy is the worst of the lot. I'm thinking you'd best steer clear of them while you're in town, Mr. Zane."

  "And it will be a while before you can travel," Sally added. "There's only the boarding house and that won't be safe. Perhaps Mr. Gipson will put you up for a week or two. His place is right beside the schoolhouse."

  Luke Zane saw the look on Jeremiah Rhode's face. Didn't appear that the sheriff much like the idea of him hanging around town. Or maybe just around Miss Sally. This could turn out to be an interesting little stay. He took a deep breath, then reached up and gently poked the bandage around his head.

  "Reckon I'll have to see what can be arranged at that."

  #####

  About the author of Luke Zane and the Bushwhacker

  K.G. McAbee has had several books and nearly a hundred short stories published, some of them quite readable. She takes her geekdom seriously, never misses a sci-fi con, loves dogs and iced tea, and believes the words 'Stan Lee' are interchangeable with 'The Almighty.' She writes steampunk, fantasy, science fiction, horror, pulp, westerns and, most recently, comics. She's a member of Horror Writers Association and International Thriller Writers and is an Artist in Residence with the South Carolina Arts Commission. Her steampunk/zombie novella, BLACKTHORNE AND ROSE: AGENTS OF D.I.R.E. recently received an honorable mention in the 2013 3rd quarter Writers of the Future contest.

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