Longarm and the Lone Star Legend

by Tabor Evans

  The .45 thundered as the big slug chewed a splintery hole through a fence plank. Ki had somersaulted forward, to rise up in front of Higgins before he could recock his single-action revolver.

  At first Higgins didn't even attempt to fight, but turned on his heel and ran back down the alley, toward the street. As he ran, he spun around to back-pedal a few steps and snap a shot at Ki.

  That was Higgins's final mistake. His shot went wild as Ki reached into his coat to extract another shuriken, this one a disc in the shape of a six-pointed star. The disc looked like a spur-wheel, except that the shuriken was four inches across and forged of high-grade steel. Ki snapped his wrist to send the lethal star on its journey toward its target.

  Higgins saw the metallic thing glitter as it left the circle of light in which Ki stood, to come whizzing and swooping his way like some razor-edged bat. He screamed, dropping his .45 to the dirt as he turned to run furiously for the street. He heard the deadly whir of the throwing star, and uselessly fluttered his hands behind him in an attempt to protect the back of his neck.

  The shuriken sliced through three of Higgins's spread fingers before burying half of its diameter in the base of his skull, instantly severing his spinal cord. He fell forward, his own momentum carrying him, so that his face plouwed a furrow in the dirt before he came to rest. His body twitched and jerked in muscle spasms even as his staring eyes began to glaze.

  Ki retrieved his two throwing blades from the throats of the other men, wiping the steel off on their clothes. He walked over to where Higgins lay, and with some difficulty pried the throwing star out of its niche of skull-bone. He cleaned it on the lining of Higgins's coat, put it back in its pocket in his own coat, and stared down at the corpse.

  "I never make a man a present of his life twice," he said out loud, so that Higgins's Kami, should it be hovering near the body, could take the message along as it began the journey into the destiny long ago decreed for it by the ex-foreman's karma.

  Ki stepped over the body and made his way to the street. If anybody had heard Higgins's shot, or his scream, they were certainly lying low.

  Ki would report the deaths to Town Marshal Farley as soon as possible. The marshal was most likely at the Cattlemen's Association.

  Ki strode in that direction. The meeting was where he'd been going before these three had temporarily delayed him.

  And Jessie would be waiting for him, Ki knew. He quickened his stride. He'd begun to feel lonesome and just a tiny bit sad. It was the way he always seemed to feel whenever he was away from Jessica Starbuck for very long.

  The Cattlemen's Association building was lit up like a Christmas tree. Inside the large meeting hall, the leather armchairs and fine antique side tables had been haphazardly stacked against one of the wainscoted walls, to make room for the rows of backless benches brought in to seat the crowd. The benches filled the room except for a narrow aisle down the center, and the speaker's platform at the front.

  The crowd filled the benches. The womenfolk had been left at home, but the cattlemen had brought their foremen and top hands for moral support and physical protection. After all, if a man like Alex Starbuck had been shot down like a dog, who was safe? The agitated voices of the cowboys and their bosses created a general din that echoed in the room and spilled through the open windows that faced Main Street.

  Ki stood in the rear of the hall, watching the governor try to call for order. The governor was a tall and stately man, as befit his position, and was dressed in a blue pinstriped suit. He stood ramrod straight, and had a lion's mane of gray hair brushed straight back from his high forehead.

  Ki, watching him pound his gavel in a futile attempt to command the room's attention, thought that the fellow looked just like a governor ought to; it was a shame that nobody was paying any attention to him.

  The brace of Texas Rangers who stood slouched against the wall behind the governor looked embarrassed. The governor's mouth was opening and closing, but Ki could not make out the words being intoned. Too many people were shouting and carrying on.

  "Where's Jessica Starbuck!" a man yelled.

  The governor flushed red and pounded his gavel.

  Another of the ranchers jumped up on his bench to address himself to the entire room, totally ignoring the podium as he yelled, "We've got to face facts! Everybody here owes the Starbucks!"

  "Please!" the governor shouted, attempting to drown him out. "Let's have order!"

  "If Jessie's the new head of the Circle-Star spread, she's the only one who can call the roundup on or off!" the man continued. Now he turned to point his finger at the podium. "If things are all right, Governor, where's Jessie?"

  There was a chorus of supportive yells, and a smattering of applause. The speaker, pleased, looked as if he were about to continue, but a number of hands reached up to tug him down from the bench that had been his impromptu platform.

  Ki, for his part, thought that the man had asked a good question. Just where was Jessie?

  While the governor endlessly, impotently pounded his gavel, Ki, spying Farley's rotund form, began to shoulder through the crowd at the rear of the hall in order to make his way to the town marshal's side.

  Farley saw him coming. His eyes were red from fatigue, with dark circles beneath them. Before Ki could say a word, Farley sighed, "She's over at Dr. Brown's office."

  "What has happened to her?" Ki demanded, gripping Farley's arm.

  "Easy!" Farley winced.

  Ki let go, and fought to compose his emotions. "Tell me," he said quietly.

  "She's all right!" Farley groaned, rubbing at his bicep. "Damn that grip of yours! Anyway, she's just there to hold Longarm's hand while he gets himself stitched up. He got into a ruckus with two hands you fired recently. Anyhow, one of them sliced Longarm's ribs up some — nothing serious — before he shot them both. I had to go over to Canvas Town myself to straighten it all out. Hell, it's been a long day." Farley shook his head. "I'm satisfied it was self-defense," he added as an afterthought.

  "Marshal Farley, I am sorry, but I must make your day even longer," Ki began. "Those two that Longarm shot worked for the foreman we fired, a man named Higgins."

  "Yeah, so?" Farley looked suspiciously at Ki. "I've seen Higgins around. What of it?"

  "Higgins and two others of his men are lying dead in the alley behind the Union Saloon."

  "Oh, no…"

  "I had to kill them." Ki said apologetically. "It was self-defense."

  "That's what Longarm said. I swear, you two are starting to remind me of each other."

  Ki only shrugged. He had no intention of telling Farley the obvious connection between the two attacks this night. Higgins had been working for Danzig, the blond man whom Ki had encountered upstairs at the Union, but this was information for Jessica and perhaps for Longarm, but definitely not for this town constable who had refused even to investigate the Alex Starbuck murder.

  "Well, let's go clean up your mess," Farley muttered, walking. He looked back at Ki, who had not moved. "I said come on!"

  "I think not, Marshal," Ki said absently. "I will remain here, to wait for Jessie."

  "Now you listen here, son," Farley said, his temper rising and a note of warning creeping into his gruff voice. "I've got no patience for your high and mighty ways. I said you're coming, and that means…"

  Ki cut him off, his black eyes flashing with amusement. "Marshal, I have been living in these parts for fifteen years. Do you really think I am going to hightail it out of town, or Texas, because I was forced to defend myself against three armed men in an alley?"

  "I suppose if I insisted that you come along, or tried to pull my gun on you, you'd kill me," Farley demanded furiously. "Is that what you'd do, Ki?"

  Wondering if the marshal meant to be funny, Ki merely said, "Of course not, Farley." He paused. "I would probably only sprain your wrist."

  "I believe you. Thanks for nothing!" Farley groused. "Well, you wait here, then."

  "Yes. Marshal." />
  Farley whirled at what he had initially taken to be a sarcastic retort, but Ki's tone and expression seemed totally innocent and respectful. The marshal glanced dubiously at Ki's gunbelt. "How'd you kill those three? Surely not with that?" He pointed at Ki's holstered revolver. "Well?"

  Ki gazed at Farley and blinked like a cat. "With blades," he said pleasantly. "Throwing knives."

  "A funny fellow, just like Longarm," Farley mourned. Maybe that's why Jessie has taken such in interest in that deputy marshal.

  Ki flinched.

  "But at least Longarm has blood in his veins," Farley added in farewell. "He isn't a cold fish like you."

  Farley wandered away, muttering imprecations beneath his breath. Ki did not notice. He was too busy thinking that the marshal's last hurled accusation had been ironic indeed! If he was such a cold fish, why was his blood just now boiling, his heart threatening to break in two at the thought of Jessie's being with Longarm?

  And what right do I have to feel this way? he raged silently at himself. I am pledged to defend her honor and her person…

  Just then, Jessie entered the hall, with Longarm at her side. The tall, broad-shouldered federal marshal was walking stiffly, but he seemed fit enough. Ki composed himself, gathering up the reins of his stampeding emotions. His duty had to come before his feelings. There was some sadness, and a little pain in that, but Ki could live his life no other way.

  Chapter 13

  The doc had not had to stitch the shallow wound on Longarm's side, but merely plaster down the raised flap of skin with a taped square of gauze. It was more of a scrape than a cut. Longarm had already tested his draw and found it to be unaffected. He'd be healed up in a week or so, and until then he'd just have to put up with an occasional twinge of soreness.

  A week or so. Longarm pulled a cheroot from his coat pocket and stuck it into the corner of his mouth. He did not light it, but absently chewed on the end. In a week the army would be patrolling Texas, and he and Billy Vail would be looking for new jobs. Longarm was no closer to finding Alex Starbuck's murderers than he had been when he'd first arrived in Sarah. If the agitated mood of this crowd of cattlemen was any indication, martial law and a flood of bluecoats were just around the corner for Texas.

  "There's Ki!" Jessica Starbuck said, and hurried off that way.

  She was wearing a green tweed riding jacket, and a skirt made of the same material. Longarm felt himself stirring as, following along behind her, he watched the swaying of her hips. Damn, but the effect of this woman on him was purely magical! Her long, reddish-blond tresses had been pinned up on top of her head. Wisps of hair hung down from beneath her brown Stetson hat. Longarm found himself growing warm as he gazed at the nape of her neck, remembering how it had felt to press his lips against her soft skin during the height of their sexual abandon.

  "We ran into Farley on our way in," Jessie blurted to Ki, taking his hands in her own. "Are you all right?"

  Ki smiled. He found himself staring into the green pools of her eyes, and then glanced down to see her delicate hands sheltered in his own strong fingers. "I am unhurt." he said quietly, savoring the touch of her, and then letting go. He turned his glistening black eyes on Longarm. "You were wounded, I understand?"

  Longarm shrugged. "Hell, my vest and shirt took more of a licking than I did," he remarked absently, still pondering the expression that had been on Ki's face when Jessie had touched him. "Doc Brown is about my size, and was able to lend me a fresh shirt." His vest had been ruined, so he'd transferred his watch, with its gold-washed chain, to a pocket of his frock coat, tucking his unclipped derringer behind the large square buckle of his gunbelt. It wasn't the best place in the world to stash an ace-in-the-hole, but it would have to do until Longarm could replace his vest.

  "I am very pleased that you survived tonight's trouble," Ki said evenly. He turned to Jessie. "I must speak with you."

  "Reckon the fact that Higgins's gang split up to come at us both this evening was no coincidence," Longarm mused.

  Ki ignored him. "Jessie?" He reached out to pull her away.

  "You just don't let anything happen the easy way, do you old son?" Longarm swore softly. "So here it comes the hard way. Anything you found out tonight comes under the heading of official business."

  Ki, said stubbornly, "Jessie, come with me."

  "Son," Longarm warned, his eyes narrowing. "I don't have a lot of time to fool with you."

  "Careful, Longarm," Ki seethed.

  "And I don't have a lot of time to get to the bottom of this damned case. I don't intend to allow you and this young lady to withold evidence."

  "You have no choice in the matter, Longarm," Ki declared, his dark eyes flashing with fury barely controlled.

  "I could arrest you, and get what I need to know out of you by making you cool your heels in Farley's jail."

  "Incorrect, Longarm." Ki smiled thinly. "You could merely try to arrest me."

  "Blustery talk, old son, but unless those fast hands of yours can stop lead…"

  "Stop it! Both of you!" Jessie commanded, her hands on her hips. "Men! You're both acting like bulls pounding their skulls together to get command of the herd. And you're both as stupid!"

  Longarm blushed, recognizing the truth in her words. But he also wondered how she could be so wise and so blind at the same time. It's you Ki is wanting to impress, girl…

  "I haven't forgotten the wild-goose chase you sent me on in Canvas Town, Ki," Longarm said sullenly. He wasn't really all that angry; he would have done the same thing in Ki's position, but he wanted a concession from the man, and he was starting to understand how Ki's value system operated.

  "Yes, I apologize." Ki looked down at his boots.

  "Farley filled me in." Longarm pressed his momentary advantage. "I trusted you, and got ambushed because of it."

  Ki felt very guilty indeed. His ploy had sent Longarm deep into Canvas Town, far from help. He hadn't meant for Longarm to be wounded, of course, but the fact remained that Ray and Musty might not have found him if Ki had not directed him into that wild part of town.

  Longarm watched and waited as Ki worked his way through the ramifications of his actions. Sometimes the only way to crack the toughest nuts is to let them ripen awhile in their own hard shells, he thought. He struck a match and puffed alight his cheroot. He blew a shimmeringly perfect smoke ring, and winked at Jessica.

  Ki was about to acquiesce to Longarm's wishes in partial payment of the debt of honor he had brought upon himself by deceiving the lawman. But when he looked up to see that big, swaggering, mustached Longarm flirting with Jessie, he felt blossoming in his chest on envy whose thorns were as sharp as the meanest Texas cactus. He stamped off, calling over his shoulder, "Jessie, I will wait to speak with you in the foyer."

  Longarm watched him go. He shook his head and sighed.

  "I just don't understand what's gotten into him," Jessie murmured.

  "How can you not, woman," Longarm chuckled. "That man is plainly head-over-heels in love with you."

  "No!" Jessie said, startled. "No, Longarm," she now said it slowly and seriously. "That can't be. You see, Ki and I, we grew up together. He came to my father when he was little more than a boy. His skills as a warrior were already honed. My father, worried about my personal safety, sort of hired Ki to be my companion and bodyguard. I was just a few years younger. Ki taught me some martial skills, and watched over me." She paused, to stare searchingly into Longarm's eyes. "To say that Ki was hired by my father grossly devalues the transaction. Ki pledged his services to my family, to me. There's no question that he would give his life for me if necessary."

  "All the more reason for him to love you," Longarm insisted.

  "That's our concept of love, but not the samurai's concept." Jessica blushed. "Ki and I could never have a real love affair. He could not allow that to happen. His sense of honor and duty would not allow it. Ki's love for me must be totally selfless. His life must be dedicated to protecting me. His vow o
f service to my father allows for no less than that."

  "I'm beginning to understand," Longarm said slowly. "If he and you were, uh, together as man and woman, it'd confuse things. He'd be your lover, and not your…samurai."

  "I love him very much," Jessie smiled. "But our love must always remain chaste. I would never tempt him, for I know that if Ki should lapse from the selfless love he holds for me, thereby allowing his vow of total protection of me to lapse, he'd be forced to commit harakiri."

  "Excuse me?" Longarm blinked.

  "Harakiri is another name for seppuku," Jessica said.

  "Ki told me about seppuku," Longarm said. "That's suicide, right?"

  Jessie nodded.

  "But what's this other thing, this… 'hairy carey?' I disremember Ki saying anything about that."

  "In Japan, it's a rather vulgar term," she said. "It means 'belly-slitting.'" Longarm frowned, puzzled, and she went on. "I don't really like to talk about it, but… well, in seppuku the suicide rips open his belly with his own sword and pulls out his entrails. Two long cuts, like this…" She drew her hand first across her own abdomen from one side to the other, then upward from pubis to breast bone.

  Longarm grimaced and gave a low whistle. He said, "Lordy, these Japans don't do anything halfway, do they?"

  "Only samurai are allowed this sort of death," Jessie replied. "It's considered a great honor to die this way. The physical pain means nothing. The greater pain would be in Ki's soul at the knowledge that he'd failed me, and failed my father. That would dishonor him and all his ancestors. The only way he could restore that honor would be through seppuku, but he would still have failed, and Ki would never allow himself knowingly to fail. For him to make love to me would be betrayal, the deepest of failure. No, it could never be. He is a true samurai, completely and utterly."

  Jessie stood on tiptoe to peck a feather-light kiss upon his cheek. "I think it's not Ki's love for me you're concerned about," she teased sweetly. "I think you're just jealous."