The Taylor County War
Page 13
Reverend Stone’s deep voice poured forth from his thick frame as he lifted his gray-and-red bearded face to the sky.
“O Heavenly Lord of Hosts,” he boomed. “Take into Thy arms this gentle lad, and clasp him to Thy sweet bosom for eternity. And rain down a swift and terrible vengeance upon the foul excuses for men who perpetrated this loathsome deed.” He glanced briefly toward the nearby Methodist church, which Rogers attended. “And bring shame and ignominy to any who shelter and succor such evil men, O Lord. And if it should be Thy will to place your sword of righteous fury into the hands of some who stand among us, to lop off the serpent’s head, then praise Thy Holy Name. In the name of our mighty Warrior King Jesus Christ we pray, amen.”
“Amen,” Sam Gardner echoed. That was a prayer he could get behind.
The funeral attendees gradually filed away, but Sam and G. W. did not move. Sam caught Marcus Sublette’s eye as the teacher walked past, and gestured him over.
“How are your boys handling it?” Sam asked.
“You mean Frank and Ethan? They’re sticking together closer than ever. This isn’t the sort of thing you get over easily at their age, if you ever get over it at all.”
“They carried themselves like men through everything,” Sheriff Satterlee said. “Especially young Frank. I never knew his pa, but folks around town tell me he was a stand-up man. I reckon he passed it on.”
Marcus nodded, then mumbled a goodbye and followed after his students. Sam had noticed the teacher’s behavior when Frank’s mother Josephine was around, and wondered if mention of her war-hero husband made him uncomfortable. The marshal did not begrudge Marcus his mooning –she was a fine-looking woman, and if she were not quite so decent and devout he’d be tempted to go by her shop and get fitted for a dress himself.
From the corner of his eye, the marshal saw his friend, the sheriff, wince. He wondered briefly if his face had betrayed his lascivious thoughts and shocked G. W. –Sam could not help himself, though, for some reason funerals made him feel a stronger desire than usual to be alive. He quickly saw, however, that the source of G. W.’s anxiety was much worse than any errant indecent thought.
Edith Pettigrew was marching toward them with a determined step. Sam sighed. There was no telling what she was here to complain about, today of all days.
“I see the long arm of the law is here to keep a close eye on things,” she said, “now that the danger is over. Shame on you, shame on you both. This is the second child murdered under your watch. I hope you’re happy with how fast our graveyard has grown –it’s doubled in size since that horrid railroad came through! And you call yourselves peacekeepers.”
She stared at them, her eyes glazed and the pupils barely more than pinpoints. She had definitely sampled Tsu Chiao’s opium supply before the funeral. That particular drug usually calmed people down, but she had apparently built up a pretty good tolerance for it.
“Drunkards and reprobates, that’s what you are,” she said. “If my husband Seth were still alive and running this town he wouldn’t stand for it, I assure you. You’ll both die on these streets, no doubt of that, but I shudder to think how many decent people will perish before you. Good day.”
She stalked away, and the lawmen stood silently in her wake for a long moment. Then Satterlee broke the silence.
“She ain’t far wrong, for a change,” he said. “Seems like this place is gettin’ worse instead of better.”
Sam nodded. “I’m tempted to ride out to Rogers’ place and just blow his brains out. Then come back to town and plug Ira Breedlove and Dab Henry, just on principle, before they stir up more trouble, too.”
The sheriff sighed. “Yeah, I know,” he said.
Sam stared hard at his friend. “I ain’t joking, G. W.”
“I know you’re not. But that would just make things worse all the way around.”
“Maybe, but it would feel good to start with.”
“Rogers may think he got away with what he did,” Satterlee said, “but he’s wrong. We’ll find a way to make him pay. From the right side of the law. I aim to watch him like a hawk –he’s bound to slip up, and when he does we’ll be right there to bring him down. I swear it.”
Sam clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Deal,” he said. “Until then, I promise I’ll try to keep my righteous sword of fury under control. For now, why don’t we go get a drink and see if we can wash this taste out of our mouths.”
“All right,” Satterlee said, and they walked back into town.
But they both knew it wouldn’t wash out.
THE END
ABOUT THE AUTHORS:
DOUGLAS HIRT
Taking to heart the admonition of Horace Greeley, I headed west to New Mexico back in the days when the Beatles were singing about Lucy and the Beach Boys about Little Deuce Coupes. There I earned a Bachelor of Arts degree at the College of Santa Fe, and later a Master of Science Degree at Eastern New Mexico University. It was just about this time that I decided I’d rather write books for a living than work a 9-5 job.
I started out spinning western yarns for Doubleday, and then for Dell, Berkley/Jove, and later Leisure and RiverOak. Lately I’ve been poking a stick at this new monster called e-books. Over the years I’ve written historical novels, westerns, science fiction, Christian fantasy, and a bit of nonfiction. When I’m not writing, you’ll likely find me tinkering with an old MG or Triumph, or daydreaming about a cabin on a lake in the North Woods with a stack of vintage Clifford Simak novels at my elbow.
A partial list of my works can be found at www.DouglasHirt.com.
CLAY MORE
My real name is Keith Souter and I was born in St Andrews in Scotland. I studied Medicine at Dundee University and then practiced as a family doctor in the city of Wakefield in England for thirty years. While I was at medical school I started to write children’s stories for a family magazine, but after qualifying as a doctor the exigencies of the job were such that the focus of my writing was on medicine. I have also been a health columnist for almost thirty years and have written about a dozen medical and health books. In addition I write non-fiction books including Schoolboy Science Remembered; The Pocket Guide to Dice and Dice Games; The Little Book of Genius; The Little Book of Golf; Medical Meddlers, Mediums and Magicians – the Victorian Age of Credulity and The Classic Guide to King Arthur. Using the pen-name of Clay More I write traditional westerns with the Black Horse Westerns imprint of Hale of London: Raw Deal at Pasco Springs; Nemesis for the Judge; Double-Dealing at Dirtville; A Rope for Scudder and Stampede at Rattlesnake Pass. I also write Scottish-based crime novels as Keith Moray for Hale: The Gathering Murders; Deathly Wind; Murder Solstice and Flotsam and Jestsam. In 2006 I won a Fish Prize for my short historical story A Villain’s Tale and writing as Keith Souter started a series of historical mysteries set around Sandal Castle, the ruined medieval castle that I live within arrowshot of: The Pardoner’s Crime and The Fool’s Folly. In the summer of 2012 the first in my series of Victorian children’s adventures begins with The Curse of the Body Snatchers by G-Press. My website is www.keithsouter.co.uk and my blog is http://west-uist-chronicle.blogspot.co.uk
[I am a member of the Society of Authors, The Crime Writers’ Association, Medical Journalists’ Association, International Thriller Writers, Western Writers of America and Western Fictioneers.]
MATTHEW PIZZOLATO
I've been both a reader and a writer all of my life. My love for writing grew from my love of reading. I've written in several genres, but Westerns are my preference. I write them primarily because I was born in the wrong century. I grew up reading Louis L'Amour and he remains by biggest influence.
My work has appeared in numerous publications both online and in print. I am the author of the Western short story collection, The Wanted Man, and of the novella, Outlaw, both of which feature my antihero character Wesley Quaid. My home on the web is www.matthew-pizzolato.com and I can be found on Twitter @mattpizzolato. When I'm not writing, I work as t
he editor and webmaster of The Western Online, an online magazine dedicated to the Old West.
JAMES REASONER
I write novels and short stories for money (although I'll occasionally write a short story for a non-paying market if it's something I really want to do) and book and movie reviews for fun on my blog, which can be found at http://jamesreasoner.blogspot.com. I started out as a mystery writer nearly 35 years ago and still work in that genre and others, but I've done more Westerns than anything else. I've been married to best-selling, award-winning author, uncredited collaborator, editor, and plotter Livia J. Washburn for nearly 35 years. (Note the similarity between the length of my marriage and the length of my writing career. Coincidence? I don't think so.) We live in the same small town in Texas where we both grew up, although it's not so small anymore. (We have a Wal-Mart now!) After all these years, I still love to write and can't imagine doing anything else. My website is www.jamesreasoner.net.
TROY D. SMITH
I am from the Upper Cumberland region of Tennessee. My work has appeared in many anthologies, and in journals such as Louis L'Amour Western Magazine, Civil War Times, and Wild West. In addition, I’ve written novels in several genres—from mysteries like Cross Road Blues to the Civil War epic Good Rebel Soil. My other Civil War epic, Bound for the Promise-Land, won a Spur Award in 2001 and I was a finalist on two other occasions. Two of my short stories are finalists for this year's Peacemaker Award for western fiction. In a massive lapse of collective judgment, the membership of Western Fictioneers elected me president for 2012. I received my Ph.D. from the University of Illinois, and teach American Indian history at Tennessee Tech. My motto is: “I don’t write about things that happen to people, I write about people that things happen to.” My website is www.troyduanesmith.com , and my blog is http://tnwordsmith.blogspot.com .
CHUCK TYRELL
I was born and raised in Arizona and worked stock and farmed until I ran away to college and never went back. I decided I wanted to make my living as a writer in 1975. Up until that time, I’d been a marketing and advertising person. I took a correspondence course on writing for magazines, and sold my first article in 1976, when I was working at a newspaper and DJ-ing on nighttime radio at the same time. Since that first sale, I’ve had very few articles turned down. Now, of course, I write them only on assignment. Also in 1976, I won the Editor and Publisher Magazine award for the best direct mail campaign for a small newspaper in the United States.By 1977, I earned my entire living with my typewriter, writing ads, annual reports, newsletters, magazine articles, and sometimes a newspaper article.
I’ve read westerns all my life. The first one I remember was Smokey, by Will James. I read everything I could find, living far away from the west in Japan. In 1979, I wrote a western novel for a Louis L’Amour write-alike contest. Didn’t win. Decided I could not write fiction. The typewritten manuscript occupied a bottom desk drawer until 2000. I dusted it off and edited it as I input it into a computer file. Sent it off to a publisher, Robert Hale Ltd., in London. They bought it providing I’d cut it down to 40,000 words. The novel is now known as Vulture Gold, the first of the Havelock novels.
Besides awards in advertising and article writing, a short story won the 2010 Oaxaca International Literature Competition and my novel The Snake Den won the 2011 Global eBook Award for western fiction. Other than that, I just write westerns and fantasy. My home is in Japan, where I live with one wife and one dog and one father-in-law, visited quite often by daughters and grandkids. I write most of my fiction by longhand, usually at Starbucks. Other writing I do on the laptop. My website is www.chucktyrell.com and my blog is www.chucktyrell-outlawjournal.blogspot.com I have a number of short stories lying around in various anthologies.
The Wolf Creek series:
Book 1: Bloody Trail
Book 2: Kiowa Vengeance
Book 3: Dogleg City
Book 4: The Taylor County War
Coming Soon: Book 5: Showdown at Demon’s Drop
Also from Western Fictioneers:
www.westernfictioneers.com