Wanted: Dead or Alive

by Faye Byrd

  As we top the hill overlooking the house, it’s immediately apparent there're horses out front that don’t belong. I pull Arrow to a halt, Art stopping right beside me. “Do you recognize ‘em horses?” I turn to him.

  He leans forward, studying the scene in front of us ‘fore shaking his head. “Nope, they don’t look familiar.”

  Dread races up my spine. I may already done tainted my family with my sins. I should a left shortly after I got here, rested up and been on my way. Now I done dragged them into this shit show of a life.

  The sound of the screen door slamming brings me from my thoughts. I snap my eyes to the house and every muscle tenses at what I see. Birdie’s pushing a pistol into an unknown man’s stomach as he backs out with his hands up high. I can’t hear what’s being said, but her face ain’t nothing like the serene angel I done come to know—it’s menacing.

  Arthur don’t waste no time, he takes off, kicking his stallion into gear. I watch, unsure whether to just slink away or join him in the protection of my family. It don’t take but a minute to make up my mind when I see two more guys come running out the barn, guns drawn.

  Art slows, his attention torn between his wife on the porch and the two men rushing her direction armed and ready. He skids to a halt and jumps off his steed, running to catch the men. When they realize he’s on their tail, they turn and put him in their crosshairs. He stops his forward motion, hands up in the air.

  I slip from Arrow and lead him to a nearby tree. Then I start making my way toward the house, doing my best to stay as hidden as possible. The men march Art toward the steps while Birdie holds firm, her barrel still pushed into the other guy’s stomach. As I get closer, words start to reach my ears.

  “All right, little lady, let’s just put the gun down and talk. We mean no harm,” the man standing before her says, trying to keep an even tone to his voice.

  Her face twists and she shoves the gun harder, making him almost double over. Her lips tighten over her teeth. “If ya mean no harm then why ya boys got a gun on my man? This here’s our property, you the trespassers,” Birdie insists, tilting her head toward Art. “Now set my husband free or ya might not like what happens to ya.”

  The man looks to his boys, and with a nod, they let their weapons fall to their sides but not completely put away. Arthur takes off, bounding up the stairs, pushing the man away from his wife.

  I breathe a sigh of relief and use the opportunity to work my way closer and closer without being spotted. After Art’s checked Birdie out, he turns a menacing glare to the man in charge. “What’s the meaning of this?” he demands.

  Head Honcho holds up his hands. “Easy there. No need to let the tempers flare. We just wanna talk is all.”

  Arthur steps his big, beefy frame right up against the man. “You got our attention, now speak!”

  “Maybe we should take this inside,” Head Honcho suggests.

  “I don’t think so,” Art replies, crossing his arms over his chest.

  Head Honcho tilts his head to his boys so they come stand at the bottom of the steps, then he turns back to face Arthur, seeming a little more confident than before. “I’m here ‘bout ya family, Nathan King.”

  My blood runs cold in my veins to hear confirmation of my fears. Art stands stone still, pretending to be unaffected. “Lil Nathan?” he asks, brows furrowed. “What about him?”

  The two Bean Eaters at the bottom of the steps both chuckle, but with a look from Head Honcho, they fall silent. “Seems the boy done got himself in some trouble, and I was hopin’ to help him out is all.”

  Art chuckles and shakes his head. “No way, Lil Nathan’s just a kid. And besides, why ya here lookin’ for him? Shouldn’t ya be in Texas?”

  Head Honcho studies Art carefully for a minute, hand on hips. “Ya really don’t know?”

  “Know what?” Art asks.

  “Ya cousin done went on a murdering spree. Not only did he kill his parents”—Birdie’s hand flies up to cover a gasp—“but he went into town and murdered the banker who was gave his pa a loan. Money’s missing and everything.”

  Arthur shakes his head in the negative. “Ain’t no way Nathan done killed Aunt Anne and Big Nate. Somehow I think you done got ya signals crossed.”

  Head Honcho sighs. “Look, I know this may be hard to believe, but fact is fact. He’s a wanted man and soon as I heard he had family here in the Arizona Territory, I knew that’s where to start my search.”

  “And you are?” Birdie speaks up, sounding snide as I ever heard her.

  He smiles and tilts his hat. “Virgil West, ma’am. Nice to meet ya.”

  Her hands land on her expanded hip and she steps forward just a little. “Well, Virgil West, best I can suggest is ya go back and start ya search in Texas. We ain’t seen him, but even if we had, we’d never turn him over to the likes of you.”

  Head Honcho bristles at her tone. “The likes of me?” He points to himself.

  She steps forward and points her finger in his chest as she speaks. “Yeah. Someone who don’t even care ‘bout the facts. As my husband said, ain’t no way Nathan done killed his parents. Maybe you should go back and find out the real story ‘fore ya spend ya time trying to bring someone in for a crime that ain’t happened.”

  Virgil grabs Birdie’s hand and removes it from his person. Then he puffs out his chest. “It ain’t my job to try ‘em for they crimes, just to bring ‘em in. So if ya do see Nathan, all I can suggest is ya let him know Virgil West always gets his man.”

  Birdie snorts, but is pulled back as Arthur steps forward. “Well we done told ya, he ain’t here. It’s best if ya just be on ya way now.” He stands firm, his face serious as ever.

  Virgil studies him for a minute more before turning to his cronies. “Saddle up, boys.” The men obey, but Virgil turns back to Arthur for one final word. “I’ll be seein’ ya.” He smirks and turns, headed down the steps.

  I stay hidden and keep my eye on ‘em as they ride down the drive. When everything seems clear, I slowly join Art and Birdie on the porch.

  I give Art a pointed look, and he nods in ascent. Then I move on past him to stand in front of his wife who’s treated me like family since she laid eyes on me. “Thank ya, Birdie, for standin’ up for me, but I can’t have ya endangerin’ ya life. I’ll never forget how nice ya been to me.” Tentatively, I lean forward with my arms outstretched.

  She smiles and pulls me closer, and I pour all my gratitude into that hug. She don’t even know me hardly, but she was willing to take up for me just ‘cause Arthur trusts me. That speaks volumes of the love they have. I couldn’t wish any better for my cousin.

  When we pull apart, she says, “Ya leavin’, ain’t ya?”

  I tilt my head. “Yes, ma’am. I don’t see no other choice.”

  She heaves a big sigh but nods. “Figured as much, and I’d love to tell ya it ain’t for the best, but it is. Roy and May are too good to be mixed up in this mess, and ya done decided ya ain’t turnin’ yourself in so …”

  Her words trail off, but she’s right. I done made my decision and with it comes consequences. I’m just happy to have had this little bit of time with ‘em at all.

  “Least let me fix ya up some grub for the road,” she says, still showing how nice a person she is.

  “That’d be great, Birdie. Thanks.” I give her a smile and watch as she retreats into the house.

  Arthur sighs, so I turn my attention to him. “I hate to say it, but you was right.”

  I swallow. “Yeah. I was.”

  His face crinkles up. “What I’m wonderin’, though, is how come Mr. West didn’t mention anythin’ ‘bout those gunslingers ya killed?”

  His question makes me come up short. He’s right. Virgil West listed off my supposed crimes but failed to make any mention of the two dead bodies I dragged off to the side of the house after I killed ‘em. Those murdering bastards ain’t deserved no grave.

  I bring my hand up and rub my chin. “Ya right, Art. I smell
a cover-up and seems like Virgil’s either in the know or he’s been duped himself. Somehow, I think he’s slimy enough not to care ‘bout the details. He’s just wantin’ to make a quick buck.”

  Arthur nods in agreement. “Yep, if they mention the dead gunslingers then people might put two and two together. They’d know you ain’t the one to murder ya parents.”

  “Story sells better with just my parents and Mr. Nelson dead,” I agree, already realizing there’s more dirty people back home that I left alive.

  Arthur sighs and steps closer. “Must’ve been a mighty important man ya done took out.”

  I snort. “Important to the crooks it seems. And apparently I got the boss but left his minions to make sure he still looks innocent, even in death.”

  “I wish I knew what to tell ya. This is a bad situation all around.” He reaches out and squeezes my shoulder. “Ya know ya can always stop in from time to time if ya get out this way, right?” he suggests.

  I give a noncommittal nod. “Sure, Art. Maybe I will.” I smile and reach over to give him a big ole hug. When I pull back, I say, “Guess I’ll go pack my bag and get Arrow ready.”

  He nods and stands on the porch, watching me go.

  I stay ‘round til May and Roy make it home after sundown and give ‘em a proper goodbye. They wish me luck and let me know their door is always open, but they also know, I won’t be coming through it very often—if at all.

  By the time I’m ready to leave, not only does Birdie pack me a bounty of food, but she offers me directions to my next stop. She passes on the tale of how this family’s being harassed by a wealthy neighbor and that maybe I can help in exchange for a place to bed down.

  In the dead of night, I leave my family’s house, taking the first steps into my new way of life.

  Chapter Five

  The Next Six Years

  NATHAN

  Birdie’s directions lead me south, way down south, almost to the Mexican border. She didn’t say who the people are, but the way she talked, she knows the situation well. My journey comes to an end when I reach a long drive with a steel sign marking the entrance.

  Boyd’s Ranch

  I shrug and push Arrow forward in an effort to reach the rooftop I can barely see in the distance. There’s hills as far as the eye can see, spreading in every direction. A few heads of cattle dot the landscape.

  When the abode is finally in sight, I notice a man standing on the porch, his shotgun propped by a post. I bring Arrow to a halt and slowly dismount. “Howdy, sir.” I tilt my hat. “I know ya don’t know me. But a friend of mine sent me here and said ya may be needin’ some help.”

  He studies me. “Ya don’t look much like a ranch hand.”

  I chuckle ‘cause I mean, I ain’t, but he don’t know that. I did help my pa ‘round the farm. “No, sir. Not that kind a help, I’m afraid.”

  He grips his shotgun by the barrel and lifts it to hold in front of him. “State ya business, boy. I ain’t got no time for games.”

  I hold up my hands to show him I mean no harm. “No, sir. No games.”

  “Leave that youngin’ ‘lone, Frank,” a different voice says from inside. The screen door whines as an older lady appears. Her smile is gentle and her eyes are a twinkling. “Ya hungry?”

  The smells of meat and taters waft through the air making my mouth water, but I know better than to try and take advantage. “It sure smells good, ma’am, but if y’all ain’t needin’ my help, I should just be on my way. My friend just thought I could be of service is all.” I turn back to Arrow, ready to mount him.

  “Wait a minute, sonny. Who’s ya friend?” the kind old woman asks, strings of gray framing her wrinkle-lined face.

  I clear my throat and rub my hand across my neck. “Um, that’d be Birdie, ma’am.”

  Her thin brows climb up her head and Guard Dog stiffens, tightening his hands on his shotgun. “Boy, I ain’t gone tell ya again, but ya best be on ya way.”

  “Wait just a darn minute, Frank,” the woman demands, pointing her finger at him. She then turns back to me. “Does this Birdie have a last name?”

  I swallow deeply and give her a nod. “Yes, ma’am, but I can only tell ya her current last name as she married my cousin. It’s Thomas. I’m sorry I don’t know what it was ‘fore that.”

  A huge smile transforms her face while Guard Dog eyes me suspiciously. “Come’ere, sonny.” She motions for me to climb the steps.

  Eyeing Guard Dog, I carefully maneuver ‘round him and stand before her. Just like Birdie before, she hooks her arm through mine and leads me to that mouthwatering scent that’s filling my nose. “Have a seat.”

  I do as I’m told, and while she sets the table, she talks. “I got a grandchild named Birdie. Ain’t seen her in at least six years.”

  “No way, Ma,” Guard Dog interrupts. “It can’t be her. She don’t know nothin’ of our troubles.”

  “Hush ya mouth now, Frank. That girl always was brighter than we gave her credit for,” the lady scolds before turning back to me. “Does she got long brown hair and deep dark eyes?”

  I swallow just picturing pretty Birdie. “Yes, ma’am. And a husband worthy of her too,” I add, just so she knows Birdie’s being taken care of.

  “Here ya go, sonny. Now eat up and tell us all about yourself and this help ya offerin’.” She smiles and places a heaping plate of food before me, much to Guard Dog’s chagrin. “You just might be exactly what we been needin’ ‘round here.”

  Unable to ignore the food, I dig in, and with appreciative groans, I eat til my belly’s ‘bout to burst. When I’m done, I start talking. I tell ‘em the whole story ‘cause I don’t wanna lie ‘bout my intentions or status as a wanted man. I wanna help ‘em out and am willing to do whatever it takes.

  When I got nothing more to say, she beams and holds out her hand. “Sonny, you got yourself a deal. Frank will get ya settled in the barn today and after ya rest, ya can get to work. Mr. Campbell ain’t gone know what done hit him. Serves him right, the dirty, rotten cattle thief.”

  I smile back and grab her fragile hand. “Deal, Ms. Boyd.”

  “Ya can call me Lillian,” she replies with a smile, but Guard Dog frowns. “Frank, stop giving the boy the evil eye, and show him where he’s gone be sleepin’. I almost wish I’d get to see the look on Mr. Campbell’s face when he realizes we ain’t gone be pushed around no more.”

  Frank stands and I follow, no need to ruffle any feathers. “I appreciate it, ma’am.” I tilt my hat and turn to follow Guard Dog to the barn.

  Once we make it down the steps and over where Arrow’s tethered, he stops me with a hand to my chest. “Look, I don’t know what ya playin’ at here, but ya can bet if ya do anythin’ to hurt Ma, I’m gone hurt you.”

  Figuring it’s time I make clear I ain’t gone be pushed ‘round, I meet his eyes and draw up to my full height. “Everythin’ I said in there’s the truth.” I point back where Lillian is watching us curiously from the screen door. “And I’ll do everythin’ I can to help Lillian, but I ain’t gone be treated less than any other ranch hand. Got that?”

  His eyes narrow as he studies me quietly before finally blowing out a deep breath and nodding once. “I reckon I can do that. Just remember what I said.”

  “Duly noted.” I tip my hat and take Arrow’s reins, allowing him to lead the way down to the barn.

  Turns out, he likes me just fine.

  By the time my stay is up, their cattle’s quit coming up missing, and he and Lillian are more prosperous than ever, working with their new neighbor instead of being sabotaged by their old one.

  Lillian, much like her granddaughter, directs me back east toward the New Mexico Territory and another ranch family who’s having some troubles of their own.

  Pinned down behind a large rock, I do my best to stay low. Bullets are ricocheting off the dirt near my feet and skidding on into the bushes behind me. Three men’s doing just like I expect. They emptying they pistols at nothing.


  Cause I ain’t no fool.

  When the hellfire stops, I grip my Colts and stand, two of the men already in my sights. “Drop ‘em pistols to the ground or ya all die,” I order. Just ‘cause I will kill don’t mean I want to.

  These men just doing a job, trying to make a buck. If they follow my orders, they can live another day and have a go at me later, if not, well I’ll just have to add to my count.

  Either way works for me.

  I don’t spend my life looking for people to kill, it’s quite the opposite actually. I’m just trying to do right by people like my parents; one’s whose only choice is to bow down and let somebody take what’s theirs or find someone like me who’ll help ‘em fight back.

  People do die in the process, though, but for that, I can’t be sorry.

  This is the life I chose and I’m pretty damn happy with the results I’m able to yield.

  Two of the men hold their hands up while Foolish still fumbles with his gun, trying with shaky hands to slip bullets into their slots. “Drop ya pistols to the ground.” I eye the two who’ve chosen to play along. They concede. Then I aim both Colts at Foolish. “This is gone be ya last chance to walk away from here alive.”

  Instead of complying, he spits a big ole chunk of chew out his mouth and shines his grimy teeth in my direction. “I ain’t ‘bout to be a mercy release at the hands of Outlaw Nathan King.” He tilts his head toward his posse members. “Unlike these two yellow-bellied cowards, I got pride. I ain’t goin’ down without a fi—“

  A bullet rips through his eye.

  No need to continue this conversation, I tried.

  I shrug my shoulders and look to the other two men. “Toss ya weapons this way and get gone ‘fore I change my mind.” When they don’t move, I jump in their direction.

  Guns slide across dirt and two bodies hoist up on ‘em horses and ride out like they asses on fire.

  Better than being dead.

  As the years pass, my deeds ebb and flow with the times. Not only do I help the poor folk who’s a being swindled by the rich guy, but I’ll even help the rich, if the cause is right.