The sheer ferocity and hatred in Dixon’s voice made Jason’s jaw clench. He wanted to lash out at the old rancher, but instead he said, “You can be arrested for threatening to kill somebody, you know.”
“Not by you. Not unless I do it in that town o’ yours.” Dixon laughed. “I know that much law, sonny. Your badge don’t mean shit out here.”
The trip to the Slash D had been wasted. Jason knew that now. Dixon wasn’t going to give an inch. Jason figured Matt wouldn’t either. That meant sooner or later there would be more gunplay, more violence, maybe a full-fledged range war.
And right now, Jason didn’t see any way in hell he could head it off before it got started.
“Are we free to go?”
Dixon waved a hand again. “Sure, go on. I’m sick o’ lookin at you anyway.”
Something else occurred to Jason. “What about the town itself? Do you want everybody there to pack up and leave too?”
The speed with which Dixon answered told Jason that the rancher had already considered that very question. “No, I reckon the settlement can stay. It’s right there close to that trail the wagon trains use on their way to California. Not really good grazin’ land thereabouts.”
“What about the people who are putting in farms outside of town?”
“Long as they don’t come too far in this direction, I got no problem with that, even though I don’t have much use for farmers in general, you understand. Can’t see how anybody’d want to make a livin’ grubbin’ around in the dirt.”
Before Jason could say anything in response to that, the sound of hoofbeats made him look around. Kerby and the cowboy who had been trying to ride the big black horse in the corral had walked up the path to the house, the segundo leading his mount. The cowboy with him was limping.
Dixon saw that too, and looked worried as he exclaimed, “Will? Will, honey, are you all right?”
Honey? Jason thought.
A strong brown hand reached up and tugged the cowboy’s hat off, letting long, dark brown hair spill out from under it. Without the broad brim of the hat shading the face, Jason saw that it belonged to a woman, and a mighty good-looking one at that. Even smudged with dust and dirt, she was pretty enough to take a fella’s breath away.
“I’m fine, Pa,” she said. “Just twisted my leg a little when that devil horse threw me.”
“Damn it, I’ve told you that you don’t have to ride him!” Dixon said. “Let somebody else do it.”
“I’m the best hand you’ve got when it comes to busting horses,” she argued. “It’s my job.”
Wash leaned toward Jason and hissed, “You’re starin’, son.”
Jason supposed he was. It was hard not to stare. The woman was young, probably a year or two younger than Jason, tall and slender but not skinny. The man’s shirt and denim trousers she wore did a pretty good job of concealing her shape, but Jason could see enough to know that she was built like a woman was supposed to be built, with all the right curves in all the right places.
Wash wasn’t the only one who had noticed Jason looking at her. She turned her head, and her brown eyes met Jason’s gaze squarely. “What are you looking at, mister?”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t mean to be rude. It’s just that when I saw somebody trying to ride that horse, I figured it was a man.”
“Yeah, well, I could sit a saddle before I could walk. Isn’t that right, Pa?”
“It is for a fact,” Dixon said, and for the first time, Jason heard something besides anger, resentment, and arrogance in the old man’s voice. He heard pride. “I never saw nobody who took to ridin’ like you did, girl, not even your brothers, God rest their poor souls.”
She stepped closer to Jason and stuck her hand up. “I’m Will Dixon,” she introduced herself. “Short for Wilhemina. But don’t you call me that, or I’ll have to whip you.”
“Will! Step away from those men! They ain’t here on no friendly visit.” Dixon sneered. “The young one’s a lawman. Says I got no right to range that’s always been mine, ever since we come here.”
Will Dixon lowered her hand and took a step back. “Is that true?”
“I was just trying to get your father to understand—”
“Oh, he understands, all right. He’s forgotten more about this land than a fella like you will ever know. I reckon he told you to git?”
“As a matter of fact . . .”
“I thought so. Now I’m telling you. Get off the Slash D, and stay off!”
Somehow, the words stung even more coming from her than they had from Dixon. With his face set grimly, Jason nodded and lifted the palomino’s reins. He and Wash turned their horses and heeled them into a trot, heading back down the hill.
But when they reached the bottom, Jason couldn’t resist the impulse to look back. He saw that Will had stepped up onto the porch with her father and stood there beside Dixon now, just as straight and unyielding as he was.
“Whatever you’re thinkin’, son,” Wash said, “you best forget it. That gal is all whang leather and just as tough as her old man.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Jason forced his thoughts back onto the problem at hand as they rode away from the Dixon ranch. “What do you think Matt’s going to do when he hears about this?”
“I reckon he’ll get his back up and dig in his heels and start gettin’ ready for a fight.”
“He can’t put up a fight. Ward’s quit him. He doesn’t even have anybody working for him. Dixon probably has twenty or thirty ranch hands on his spread.”
“Matt’s got nobody right now,” Wash pointed out. “That don’t mean he won’t hire some men to help him. Folks are movin’ into Fury all the time now.”
And some of the men who drifted into town were pretty unsavory types, Jason thought. Matt had some of the money from his father’s stake left. Did he have enough to pay fighting wages?
If he did, things were liable to get a lot worse before they got better.
Regardless of that, Jason knew he had to let Matt know what the outcome of his visit to the Slash D had been. He and Wash swung toward the west, and soon came in sight of the MacDonald ranch house and the skeletal framework of the partially built barn.
Matt heard them coming and stepped out of the house to meet them, a rifle clutched in his hands. “What do you want, Fury?” he demanded.
“I rode out to Dixon’s ranch and had a talk with him, like you wanted,” Jason said.
“I didn’t want you to talk to the bastard. I wanted you to arrest him.”
“I told you, I can’t do that. But Jenny convinced me I ought to try to talk some sense into Dixon’s head.”
That brought a smirk to Matt’s face. “She did, did she? That little sister of yours is a smart girl. You ought to listen to her more often.”
Jason didn’t want to think about Matt considering Jenny pretty. It was bad enough knowing that Jenny wanted to marry Matt and have his babies. She had said as much to Jason in a fit of anger.
“Look, Dixon’s still threatening to kill you if you don’t get off this land. Why don’t you think about moving? There’s some good range north of the settlement too, and maybe that would be far enough away from Dixon that he wouldn’t mind.”
“What the hell are you talking about? He’s got no legal claim to this land! You know that.”
Jason shrugged. “He admitted as much. But that doesn’t mean anything to an old-timer like him. He’ll fight for what he considers his.”
“So will I,” Matt said. “You’d do well to remember that.” He tucked his rifle under his arm. “If there’s nothing else, I’ve got work to do.”
“Suit yourself,” Jason said. “But I’d be mighty careful if I was you. Dixon’s liable to come calling again.”
“I’ll give him a hot-lead welcome if he does.”
Jason just shook his head and turned his horse around. As he and Wash rode away, the old-timer said, “That boy’s stubborn streak is gonna get him killed.”
“Yeah,” Jason agreed with a bleak look on his face. “I just hope a lot of other people don’t wind up dead along with him.”
Chapter 10
It was early evening by the time they rode back into Fury, and another problem had occurred to Jason.
“I’ve got to do something with those fellas I locked up earlier,” he said to Wash. “The one who plugged you in the arm, and his friends.”
“I ain’t one to hold grudges. You can let ’em go as far as I’m concerned.”
“Not until I talk to Salmon about it.” Jason grinned. “There ought to be a little fine or something for winging an old pelican.”
Wash snorted.
Luck was with Jason. He spotted the mayor of Fury standing in front of Cohen’s Hardware, talking with Saul. Salmon lifted a hand in greeting as Jason and Wash reined their mounts toward him.
“Hello, fellas. I was just down at the marshal’s office, and Ward Wanamaker told me you’d ridden out to see Ezra Dixon, Jason.”
Jason swung down from the saddle and nodded. “That’s right. I wanted to see if I could talk some sense into his head about Matt MacDonald.”
“Now there’s a couple of things you don’t put together too often—sense and Matt MacDonald,” Salmon said with a smile.
“Dixon’s the same way. Hardheaded as the day is long. And he still says that he’ll kill Matt if he doesn’t get off what Dixon considers his range.”
Salmon’s smile turned into a frown. “I’m not all that fond of Matt,” he said, “but I’d hate to see him gunned down or burned out. Maybe he’s the one you ought to be talking to.”
Jason shook his head. “Wash and I just tried that. Matt won’t budge. It’s like the old saying about the irresistible force and the immovable object.”
“Don’t reckon I’ve heard that one, but I can figure out what you mean. I guess the best we can hope for is that the trouble won’t spill over into town.”
That was a worry, all right, Jason thought, but it wasn’t his only one. If anything happened to Matt, Jenny would be heartbroken. Whether Jason liked Matt or not, he didn’t want his sister to have to go through the pain of losing him.
Right at the moment, though, there was nothing else he could do, and Salmon changed the subject by saying, “Ward told me you were talking to him about making him a deputy.”
“That’s right,” Jason said. “I hope I didn’t overstep my bounds. I didn’t promise him any wages, or anything like that.”
Salmon shook his head. “No, no, that’s fine. Saul and I were just talking about the fact that you’re going to need some help keeping order around here. Ward’s a good man for the job.”
“We’re going to talk to all the businessmen in the settlement,” Saul put in. “They’re already chipping in to pay your salary, Jason. It wouldn’t cost much more for them to come up with some wages for Ward too.” Saul looked at Wash. “Unless you’d be interested in the job?”
“Me?” Wash poked himself in the chest with a thumb. “A deputy? Lord, no! I don’t mind helpin’ Jason out ever’ now and then, but it’s ’cause me and his pa was friends. Don’t give me no badge.”
Jason was glad to hear the old-timer say that. He liked Wash and knew that he was a good man in a fight, but Wash was a mite too fond of his liquor to make a dependable deputy. Jason was happy just to have him as a friend.
“All right, it’s settled then,” Salmon said. “Ward will be Fury’s deputy marshal. Better warn him the pay won’t be much, though. It’s all right with me if he works at some other jobs, as long as he’s able to handle whatever you need him to do too. Like guarding those prisoners, the way he’s doing now.”
“I’m glad you mentioned them, Salmon,” Jason said. “What am I supposed to do with them?”
Salmon and Saul looked at each other, and both men frowned. “Hell, I don’t know,” Salmon said. “Saul, what do you think?”
“We haven’t enacted any town ordinances yet,” Saul said, “but surely it’s got to be against the law to shoot at somebody, right?”
Wash put his other hand on his wounded arm and gave a dramatic sigh. “Seems that way to me. A fella ought to have to pay a fine for that. And maybe the money should go to the gent who got shot. Seems fair enough to me.”
“We need to put together an actual town council so we can pass some laws,” Salmon said. “But until then, why don’t you just fine that Mexican for disturbin’ the peace and let it go at that?”
Jason nodded. “That’s what I was thinking too. He ought to be charged with attempted murder, but with no judge or court here, we’d have to take him to Tucson or Phoenix to do it.”
“More trouble than it’s worth,” Saul said. “I agree with Salmon. Fine the man, and tell him and his friends to get out of Fury and not come back.”
“All right,” Jason said. “Come on, Wash.”
They led their horses to the livery stable, unsaddled them, then turned them over to the hostler for a rubdown and some grain. When they reached the marshal’s office, they found Ward Wanamaker in Jason’s chair, leaned back with his feet propped on the desk.
Ward sat up in a hurry, but Jason motioned for him to take it easy. “We don’t stand on ceremony around here . . . Deputy Wanamaker,” he added.
Ward grinned. “I’ve got the job?”
“That’s right. Mayor Kendall and Saul Cohen thought it was a good idea. They’re going to try to drum up some money to pay you, but Salmon said to warn you it may not be much.”
“I don’t care about that,” Ward said. “I can pick up some cash working odd jobs around town. And I don’t need much to get by on.”
Jason stuck out his hand, and Ward stood up and gripped it. “It’s a deal then,” Jason said. “And for your first official job, Deputy, why don’t you bring those prisoners out here?”
“You’re gonna let ’em go?” Ward asked.
“If we keep them much longer, the town’s going to have to feed them supper. We don’t want that.”
Ward chuckled and went to the door into the cell block. He unlocked it and swung it open, then disappeared into the short hallway. He came back a minute later, herding Flores, Trumbull, and Yates ahead of him. He had his pistol in his hand, trained on their backs in case they tried anything.
The three hardcases, while still angry about being locked up, cooperated. Jason sat down behind the desk, looked at them, and said, “Flores, you’re being fined twenty-five dollars for disturbing the peace and injuring one of Fury’s citizens. You’re lucky to be getting off so easy. By all rights, I could lock you up for the next couple of months.”
Flores sneered at him. “And if I refuse to pay this fine?”
Jason inclined his head toward the cells. “Then you go back in there . . . and I’ll let you out when I’m damned good and ready.”
“This is not legal!”
“I’m the law in Fury,” Jason said, his voice hardening. “If I say it’s legal, then it is. And the town will back me up on it too.”
“What about us?” Trumbull asked.
Jason shrugged. “You and Yates are free to go. You didn’t do anything you could be charged for. But I’ll tell you the same thing I was about to tell your friend. Get out of Fury, and stay out. You’re not welcome here, and if you come back, you’ll wind up in jail again . . . or worse.”
“That sounds mighty like a threat,” Yates grated.
Jason shook his head. “No threat, just some good advice. You’d be wise to follow it.”
Trumbull glared at him for a couple more seconds, then turned to Flores and said, “Pay the damn fine and let’s get out of here.”
“But it is not fair!” Flores jerked a hand toward Wash. “You saw what the old borrochon did to my boots!”
“I don’t care. We’re done with this damn place. We got things to do, remember?”
“Sí, sí,” Flores muttered. He dug around in the pocket of his charro jacket and came out with several coins. Contemptuously, he
tossed them onto Jason’s desk. “There is your fine . . . Marshal.”
He made the word sound like an obscenity.
“What about our guns?” Trumbull asked.
Jason stood up, went to a cabinet with a lock on the door, and retrieved the weapons that had been taken from the men earlier. “They’re unloaded,” he said as he returned them to their owners. “Don’t stop to load them until you’re out of town. I’ll be watching, and if you do, it’ll mean more trouble.”
They gave him go-to-hell looks as they buckled on their gunbelts, but they didn’t argue with the order. With some final cold, hostile stares, the three hardcases trooped out of the office.
Jason, Wash, and Ward stepped outside to watch them leave town. All three men carried rifles now, and were ready to use them if the hardcases tried anything else. But Flores, Trumbull, and Yates just retrieved their horses from the hitch rack in front of Abigail’s place, mounted up, and rode out.
A sigh of relief came from Jason. “I’m glad to see those three gone.”
“You think they’ll stay away, like you told them to?” Ward asked.
“I hope so. If they don’t . . .” Jason shrugged. “I reckon we’ll deal with that when the time comes.”
Ward nodded and said, “You need me for anything else tonight, Marshal?”
“Nope, not unless some more trouble crops up. Which I’m hoping it won’t.”
“Well, I’ll be around town if it does.” Ward lifted a hand in farewell as he moved off down the street. “So long.”
“He’s a good fella,” Wash said. “Make you a fine deputy.”
“I think so too.”
The old-timer tugged at his mustache and got a shrewd look on his face. “Now, about that twenty-five-dollar fine Flores paid . . .”
“That goes in the town coffers,” Jason said.
“Has the town got coffers?”
“It does now.”
“Don’t hardly seem right.” Wash clutched his injured arm again and winced in pain. “I’m the one who got shot, after all. And it sure does pain me.”
“If you’d leave it alone, maybe it’d stop hurting so much.” Jason smiled. “Sorry, Wash. That money goes to the town. I’m going to take it over to Saul’s and let him lock it up in his safe. For the time being, he’ll be Fury’s treasurer.”
A Town Called Fury Page 25
