by B. S. Dunn
‘Don’t shoot!’ Morgan shouted, and raised his free hand up in the air.
‘Don’t move,’ Kane ordered and walked over to check on Cutter. He needn’t have bothered because the outlaw was dead.
Kane stood up and turned to Morgan and Bert. ‘Your friend is dead and unless you both want to end up the same way, I suggest that you do exactly what I say.’
Chapter 8
It was around noon the following day when Kane rode into the main street of Buford leading the four outlaws’ horses. The last two had the bodies of Dex and Cutter draped over them. The next one carried the wounded Bert, hunched forward over the saddle horn.
Directly behind Kane was the still-moaning Morg.
As he moved along the street, curious onlookers gathered and followed his progress. By the time he eased to a stop outside the jail, he’d drawn a sizeable crowd.
After he dismounted, a lone figure pushed through the crowd towards him and he recognized Brock Hamilton.
‘Can you give me a hand to get that wounded feller off?’ Kane asked him.
‘Are these the men that burned my place?’ Hamilton asked, a hard edge to his voice.
‘Yes.’
Hamilton’s face screwed up with rage as he reached up to pull the wounded Bert from the back of the horse.
‘Brock!’ Kane snapped. ‘Do it nice and easy. I know you got no love for these fellers but leave it to the court to decide what to do with them.’
‘Says the man who lives by the gun,’ Hamilton snarled back.
Kane knew he was right. What he’d just said made him sound like a hypocrite. He turned to the crowd and picked out a slim man with black hair.
‘Can you go and find the doctor?’
‘Sure,’ he said and disappeared into the mass.
Kane turned back to Hamilton. ‘Are you goin’ to help me or will I just get the sheriff to?’
Hamilton opened his mouth to speak but closed it again. Murmurs rippled through the crowd and Kane frowned, perceiving that something was up.
‘What’s goin’ on?’
His gaze burned into Hamilton and the homesteader dropped his eyes briefly. When he looked up, the expression on his face had changed noticeably.
‘Sheriff Brooks is dead, Lucas,’ Hamilton informed him.
‘He what?’
‘He’s dead,’ Hamilton repeated.
‘Damn it,’ Kane cursed. ‘Help me get these fellers inside, Brock, and tell me what happened.’
Once Kane had locked Morg up and shown the doctor to Bert’s cell, he returned to the jail office and sat on the edge of the desk.
‘Tell me what you know, Brock.’
Hamilton took a deep breath and began to elaborate on the events of the morning. ‘They found Sheriff Brooks this mornin’. It wasn’t long after dawn. Whoever found him found Frank Redmond, the hostler, beside him. Frank had been wailed on real bad and was still out to it. Brooks had been stabbed.
‘Who found him?’ Kane asked.
Hamilton shook his head. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Did anybody hear or see anythin’?’
‘Not that I know of.’
Kane was about to ask Hamilton another question when the doctor came in from the cells.
He was a young man, maybe middle thirties and yet to suffer the rigours of hard frontier life. His name was Ezra Stone.
‘He’ll live,’ he told them. ‘Long enough to hang anyway.’
‘That’s somethin’ I guess,’ Kane sighed. ‘Tell me about Brooks and Redmond, Doc.’
‘Not much to tell really. Brooks was stabbed twice and Redmond was beaten up pretty bad with a gun-barrel.’
‘Has he talked at all?’
Stone shook his head. ‘Not much. He didn’t see who did it to him if that’s what you’re getting at.’
‘I’ve got a good idea who did it, Doc,’ Kane said grimly. ‘Provin’ it might be a whole other issue.’
Before more could be said, the jail house door swung open and a man dressed in a black suit entered. He was, however, not alone. Behind him were Buford Lance and the cold, smiling Jordan Kane.
‘I think you two best leave,’ Kane suggested to Hamilton and Stone. ‘I’ll deal with this.’
Without a word the two men left the office and closed the door behind them.
Kane turned his flinty gaze on the three men and asked, ‘What do you want?’
‘What, no formalities?’ asked Lance. His voice dripped with sarcasm.
‘Mighty confident with my brother standin’ behind you, huh Lance?’
‘Aah, Mr Kane . . .’ the man in the suit started tentatively. ‘My name is Peters. I’m the mayor of Buford.’
Kane noticed the beads of nervous perspiration on the man’s brow.
‘What brings you here, Mayor?’ Kane asked him.
‘Umm. . . . By now you would be aware that Sheriff Brooks was stabbed to death last night.’
Kane nodded. ‘I am.’
Peters fidgeted nervously and his tongue darted across his dry lips. ‘In light of it all, the town council held a meeting this morning and decided to install a new sheriff. Can’t be without one with all this trouble going on, can we?’
‘It would seem like the thing to do,’ Kane agreed suspiciously.
‘Right. So we found a man for the job and he’s going to start straight away,’ Peters explained. ‘The only issue is that he won’t require a deputy. So I’m afraid your services won’t be needed.’
‘Does the new man have any idea what he’s takin’ on?’ Kane asked.
Peters gave him a nervous smile. ‘Yes, I’m quite sure he does. You see the new sheriff is . . . aah. . . .’
‘Oh hell, it pains me to watch it,’ Lance’s voice cut across the stammering mayor. ‘What he’s tryin’ to tell you is that the new sheriff is your brother and he sure as hell don’t need help from you.’
Kane stared at Jordy’s smiling face and knew without a doubt that he was solely responsible for the murder of Brooks. Finding proof would be nigh on impossible, especially now that he had no official powers of investigation.
‘So this is how it’s goin’ to be?’ Kane said to Lance. ‘You’re goin’ to try and manipulate the law somehow to move the homesteaders off their land.’
Lance’s eyes blazed. ‘It’s my land.’
‘They have . . .’
‘They have nothing!’ the rancher shrieked. ‘The land is mine! I took it and I kept it. I have blood invested in that range and no damn sodbuster is goin’ to take it away from me.’
Kane shook his head in bewilderment. How could you argue with a man like that?
‘It might be best if you left town, Lucas,’ Jordan advised him, his fingers flexed over the ivory gun-butt of his right side Colt. ‘Can’t have you hangin’ around causin’ trouble in our peaceful town.’
Without taking his eyes from his brother, Kane reached up and unpinned the badge he wore. He tossed it on to the scarred desk where it landed with a dull thunk.
‘Maybe you’re right, Jordy,’ Kane allowed. ‘Maybe I will leave town.’
The two men watched Kane leave, followed by the mayor. Once the door was closed they looked at each other, surprised that their plan had gone so smoothly.
‘That was easy,’ Lance allowed. ‘He just turned tail and left. Didn’t even give a yelp. Some “Gun King”.’
Jordan Kane wasn’t convinced.
‘Maybe too easy. He’s up to somethin’,’ he said, suspicious of what had transpired. ‘Like you said, Lance, he gave in far too quickly. I think that badge was weighing too heavy on him. And I also think he’s glad to be rid of it. He ain’t goin’ nowhere.’
Lance thought for a moment then said, ‘I’ll have him followed. Just in case you’re right.’
‘You do that,’ Jordan said. ‘Now, what do you have planned for the homesteaders?’
‘Now you’re the sheriff, I want you to lean on all the shopkeepers in town and tell ’em to sell nothin’ to
them damned squatters. Tell ’em if they do, I’ll bring my whole crew to town and burn their shops down around their ears with them inside.’
‘I can do that.’
‘Good. Make sure they understand.’
Brock Hamilton stopped Kane before he’d gone fifty feet towards the outskirts of town.
‘Where are you goin’? he asked the gunfighter. ‘More to the point, where is the badge?’
‘I gave it back,’ Kane told him.
‘But why?’
‘Let’s just say I’m better off without it.’
‘So where are you goin’?’ Hamilton asked again, aware that Kane hadn’t answered his question.
‘I’m leavin’ town.’
‘Are you comin’ back?’
‘What the hell is this?’ Kane snapped impatiently. ‘Twenty damn questions? I’m leavin’ and that’s that. The sheriff is dead so I’m out of a job.’
‘The homesteaders need you. We need you,’ Hamilton pleaded. ‘Without you, we don’t stand a chance.’
‘You never stood a chance anyway,’ Kane said coldly. ‘Look, I’m grateful to you and your wife for helpin’ me, I really am. But you need to take your family and get gone from here, sooner rather than later if you value your lives.’
The look of disdain that Hamilton gave him cut deeper than any bullet ever could. ‘Thanks for nothin’, gunslinger.’
Without any further words, Hamilton spun on his heel and stalked angrily away.
Kane kneed his horse forward and kept riding out of town. When the buildings had dropped away, he urged the buckskin into a canter, eager to put it all behind him.
There was nothing he could do for them. The homesteaders were bucking a stacked deck. Besides, if he stayed, he would eventually have to go up against Jordy and he wasn’t exactly sure he wanted to do that.
As he rode, a feeling of foreboding pervaded his senses that Brock Hamilton was about to do something very stupid, from which there would be no coming back. His thoughts went to Martha and Elsie who would be left all alone, unable to fend for themselves.
A mile from town the trail forked. The left fork would take him to the town of Broken Flats. Instead, he took the right.
Chapter 9
The colour of the landscape changed, casting hues of purple and orange as the sun sank lower in the sky and gradually dropped behind the distant mountains.
Ernest Hughes was on lookout when a rider crested the hill. He shouted a warning to the other homesteaders and they scattered. Women and children sought shelter under the wagons while the menfolk snatched up rifles and six-guns, prepared to do battle if it came to that.
Hughes noted the casual demeanour of the rider who rocked steadily with the smooth motion of the buckskin horse. When he drew closer, Hughes could see that it was Lucas Kane.
‘Hold your fire!’ Hughes shouted and moved out from behind the shelter of the wagon.
Kane drew up and waited for an invitation to step down.
‘What brings you out here, Kane?’ the homesteader asked.
‘I came to warn you, you’re headed for trouble.’
‘We’ve been in trouble ever since we got here,’ Hughes informed him.
Kane looked about as the homesteaders started to gather around. At first, it was just the men with their guns but slowly the women and children emerged.
‘Well, trouble just got a whole lot worse,’ Kane said grimly. ‘Sheriff Brooks is dead.’
Hughes couldn’t hide the shock on his face, ‘No. How?’
‘He was stabbed last night while I was out trackin’ down the hooded riders who attacked your camp and the Hamilton spread,’ Kane explained.
‘You what?’
‘How about you let me get down from here and I can fill you in from the beginnin’?’ Kane suggested.
‘Yes, of course. Climb on down and follow me.’
Hughes’ face blanched instantly when Kane informed him that Jordy was the new sheriff of Buford.
‘Oh, lord,’ he gasped out. ‘What shall we do now? With Brooks gone and your brother as sheriff, Lance will stop at nothing to get us off this land.’
‘Just stay calm,’ Kane told him. ‘No one’s done anythin’ yet. What are your plans for the next few days?’
‘We’re goin’ to take up our quarter sections,’ a slim man put in. ‘Or we were.’
‘How about you all work together,’ Kane suggested. ‘Start building one homestead at a time. Just for now.’
‘But why?’ Hughes asked.
‘Safety in numbers,’ the gunfighter explained. ‘If one of you needs to go to town, five go. If you need to cut wood, take another three with you so nobody gets caught out alone. Do you get my meanin’?’
‘Yes,’ Hughes nodded.
‘Some of us could go to town in the mornin’ to get lumber so we can start buildin’,’ the thin man said.
‘No. You don’t need to,’ Kane said reassuringly. ‘Take a look around you. See all these tree-lined hills and ridges? There’s all the lumber you’ll need. Have any of you built a log cabin before?’
‘I have,’ answered a tall, broad-shouldered man, listening from the back of the circle.
‘For the moment, that’s all you’ll need to get started. They’re solid and it’ll be a roof over your head. At least, until this blows over.’
They all nodded in agreement, happy with the suggestion.
‘We could sure use your help, Kane,’ Hughes admitted. ‘We couldn’t pay you much but we might be able to scrape some money together.’
‘I’ll stay, Hughes,’ Kane told him. ‘But don’t worry about the money. This is one job I’ll do for free.’
‘Where did he go?’ Lance asked of his foreman Chuck Lane, as he passed him a glass of brandy.
‘Cottonwood Creek range,’ Chuck confirmed.
‘Damn that man!’ Lance shouted and threw his half-full glass at the living room fireplace where it shattered into tiny shards. ‘His brother was right. He didn’t leave after all.’
‘Nope. In fact, he seemed to be organisin’ ’em,’ Chuck commented.
‘Son of a bitch,’ Lance cursed. ‘He just continues to be a problem. Listen, Chuck, I know it’s dark out but I want you to ride out to the line shack and get Concho for me. Tell him I want to see him.’
Chuck nodded. ‘Sure thing boss.’
Lance watched Chuck leave, then turned towards the map on the wall.
‘And this time, Concho, you’d best earn your damned money.’
Mid-morning saw the arrival of Chuck and Concho back at the ranch. As Lance sat and waited for them to enter the room, a longcase clock chimed and signalled the top of the hour.
‘Mind tellin’ me what’s goin’ on?’ Concho asked as he barged in. ‘Your man here wouldn’t say a word. I was startin’ to think he’d gone mute.’
Lance stared at him levelly asked, ‘When you took care of Kane, did you check the body?’
Concho shrugged. ‘Wasn’t any real need to.’
The rancher repeated the question, this time, his voice carried a hint of menace. ‘Did . . . you . . . check . . . the . . . body? Answer the question, damn it.’
The gunfighter’s eyes flared. ‘No. Don’t push me, Lance.’
‘I’ll push you as far as I damn well want,’ Lance shot back.
‘Especially when I pay for a job and it doesn’t get done!’
‘What do you mean, doesn’t get done?’ Concho demanded. ‘I shot the son of a bitch didn’t I? He’s damn well dead.’
‘No, he’s not.’
‘He sure as hell is,’ Concho snapped. ‘When I kill someone, they stay dead.’
‘Since you’ve been holed up in that line shack, I’ll excuse your ignorance,’ Lance said in a condescending tone. ‘But Kane is very much alive and is being a thorn in my side.’
Concho shook his head, unable to believe what he’d been told. Finally, he asked, ‘What do you want me to do?’
‘I want you to clean up yo
ur damned mess. I want Kane gone.’
‘Why don’t you set the Prince against him?’
‘He’s takin’ care of business for me in town,’ Lance explained.
‘Besides, it’s your mess and you’ve been paid to get rid of him.’
‘Where is he?’
‘He’s holed up with the homesteaders over on the Cottonwood Creek range,’ Lance told him.
‘Fine, I’ll go and take care of it now.’
The rancher nodded. ‘Good. There is one more thing. When you’ve done it, keep riding and don’t come back. Your services are no longer required.’
As Lance issued his final order to Concho, Hughes found Kane hooking a team up to a bundle of logs. The stand of pines they were cutting sat on a hill which overlooked the site of the first homestead.
He climbed down from his bay horse with a look of concern on his face.
Kane knew that whatever was coming couldn’t be good.
‘The group that went to town for supplies struck a problem, Kane,’ Hughes growled. ‘Not one shopkeeper would sell them anything that was on the list.’
‘Sounds to me Lance has ordered them not to,’ Kane surmised.
‘But surely they wouldn’t do that because he told them to.’
‘He wouldn’t have done the tellin’ directly,’ the gunfighter said. ‘He would’ve had Jordy talk to ’em.’
‘What are we goin’ to do?’ Hughes asked worriedly.
‘Nothin’,’ Kane told him. ‘He wants you all to give up. Show him that you don’t intend to.’
‘Then he’ll send more riders against us.’
The gunfighter nodded. ‘More than likely. The question you need to ask yourself, and this goes for all of the homesteaders, is are you prepared to fight for what is yours? If you ain’t, you may as well leave now. Because it’s quite possible more of you will die before this is done.’
It was a bleak prediction but Hughes knew that what Kane said was true.
With all hands pitched in, the work on the new homestead progressed steadily that day. Kane had posted lookouts on two of the surrounding hills to prevent being taken by surprise. It was the lookout to the east who spotted the rider first and fired a warning shot.
