Dead Aim

by Dusty Richards

  “I do understand, Marshal Cline, but when he swore at me and went for his gun I had to decide if it was him or me going to the pearly gates. I decided he could go first.”

  “What is your name?”

  “Long John O’Malley.”

  “You own the Three Star Ranch?”

  Lawrence shook his finger at the lawman. “And I saw it all. He was about to be shot by that man, and Long shot him instead.”

  “How is the shot one?” the marshal asked his partner, who had been standing with the body lying in the street but had now joined them in the bank.

  “He’s dead.”

  With a wry look on his face, he turned to Long. “He beat you there, sir.”

  CHAPTER 39

  The justice of the peace held a hearing and spoke to Long, who was on the stand. Then Lawrence, a gray-headed woman, Harry, and the two lawmen were questioned also. He summed it up as, “Justifiable Homicide.”

  Jan had come to town with him, Harry as their guard, for the hearing. The three went to eat lunch at a café and after the meal, they went and looked at Lawrence’s wall map showing Ralph Bowman’s ranch that had been foreclosed on.

  Lawrence told him Bowman was moving off and he only had two hands who were leaving to help him move to his brother’s up north. He’d left his herd book, which Lawrence had secured in the foreclosure.

  “I gave him the twenty-five hundred dollars from an undisclosed source who wanted him to have a stake. Which was very considerate of you.”

  “I have Harry here. Ira and Collie are going up there to look at it and what needs to be done. We haven’t seen it all, but it is a cow ranch. Shame he didn’t have what it took to make it.”

  “I shake my head every time I think about what you two boys have done.”

  “We’ve been very lucky, but you need to make hay when the sun shines, Dad always said. Considering the state of the U.S. economy and the war debt, I still see problems ahead for all of us in the future.”

  Lawrence agreed. “Will you live on this one?”

  “No. We are building a home on the Three Star,” Jan said. “I hope by Christmas we will have an open house for you and your wife.”

  “Don’t you have a mansion?”

  “Tell him, Jan.”

  “We deeded that to the Methodist church for a homeless boy’s school.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  They left the bank and Harry asked, “We surveying it?”

  “Yes. I’ll talk to them and you can supply them.”

  Harry smiled and nodded. “I know how to do that.”

  Long clapped him on the shoulder. “We have lots to do. Move our heifers up there. Survey, then fence, and those guys can drill some wells. Bowman’s corrals are too small for our usage. We’ll need to build new.”

  “I’ll enjoy it anyway it goes. Working for you and the missus is the best I ever had it in my life.”

  “Me too, Harry,” Jan said.

  Two weeks later Harp and two of his men stopped by the Three Star Ranch headquarters on his way back home.

  “Damn, brother, I had to open gates and couldn’t believe all the work going on here. What’s going on with the big house?”

  “We deeded it to the Methodist church for homeless boys.”

  Jan took him out on the porch and pointed to the construction on the hill.

  “I wouldn’t have lived in that place, either.” Harp laughed.

  She agreed with a nod.

  “Your boys are a few days behind me with the wagons. They are anxious to get here for a reunion with their wives.”

  “We will have a real one for them.”

  “Oh, and thanks. Dad said you solved the raiders’ problem, and have got all of them in jail.”

  “It wasn’t easy. We need to get past our wanting to deal with it ourselves, using Judge Rope. Texas has lots of crime and we needed to do this right. Once we get one more of the main ones in jail, I’ll be satisfied. Oh, and I bought thirty sections north of here for eight dollars an acre in a foreclosure deal.”

  “Is it Four Star now?”

  They laughed.

  That evening he and Harp talked about forming two companies. Ranching and the other a separate company handling the cattle.

  Harp agreed. “We need to be full-time ranchers and have a separate cattle-gathering deal.”

  “Remember I told you about Clyde Nelson, and the far southwest section that has a lake on it that he wants to sell? You need to buy it.”

  “I’ll do it.”

  “I mailed you the information.”

  “Long, I am amazed at you and what you are getting done. You were the guy who told me they could stick herding out of sight.”

  “Sometimes you have to grow up. I cut out and went to see the shining mountains, something I needed to get out of my blood. When you talked about Katy waiting for you at that store and not knowing why, but it working out the way it did. I wanted that for me.”

  “Oh, yes, the afternoon of our lives—mine anyhow. Why they sold her in her early teens to be a wife because she was alone, a survivor of a fire, I’ll never understand. But I am glad I have her.”

  “And for me—they had Jan drugged up, but she had fallen off the horse and escaped. I found her horse in the dark, and then she found me and nearly shot me, but passed out, falling on top of me. The orphan girl who had been dressed in boys’ overalls to go to school. Just think. One hour’s difference I might not have found her horse or her.”

  “Dad said, either the haints or God did that to people.”

  They both laughed. Jan brought them out coffee.

  “Neither of you drink do you? Every man I knew, and God bless my first husband, drank. How come you two don’t?”

  “Probably how Mom raised us. Every time I see a blanket-wrapped Indian drunk, I say that could be me. I have nightmares about it.”

  “The time most of the boys drank was after we got done riding with Dad after Comanche to get hostages back.”

  “I am not disturbed by it. Simply wondered. And I love how both of you ended up with Katy and me, both of us women with really tough back lives.”

  “We got the pick of the litter.”

  “This day that Lincoln put on the November calendar count on us being down for Thanksgiving and Christmas, too. Next year we will have the events up here in my new house.”

  “Did you ever expect to have a house like you’re building? I saw the plans.”

  “I had hungry days back then. We didn’t have much. Some neighbors fed me and my aunt or we’d have starved.”

  “Long, finding you and me finding Kate was fate. But we started riding these waves when I fired the cook before we moved that small herd a foot.” Harp shook his head.

  Long added, “For a while I thought he’d done the wrong thing. We had to cook after that.”

  She refilled their cups. “Nice evening. Good to have you two together. It has been a long summer.”

  “Amen,” Harp agreed.

  With lots of things settled, Harp rode home the next day.

  CHAPTER 40

  Jan wore a nice dress on that cold day in November on the second floor of the Federal Building in Dallas, Texas. Someone held her lined winter coat as she stood beside him while they swore Long in as a U.S. Marshal. He finished the oath and thanked them.

  “May I kiss my bride?”

  Others in the room laughed. He did it, anyway, after they pinned the silver shield on his coat.

  Then he reached inside his coat and took out the warrant for John Q. Blaine. It was a secret grand jury warrant for him to be arrested and held without bond for his involvement in the ranch raiding and murders in Bexar County, Texas. A slow smile crossed his face. He had the badge and the warrant.

  Three more marshals were to meet him at two p.m., outside the Lone Star Bank, which housed Blaine’s office on the second floor. U.S. Deputy Marshal Long John O’Malley would make his first official arrest in three hours. He could hardly wait.
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  Dear Readers,

  I stay pretty busy writing my yarns about the West. I thank you for supporting my books.

  My e-mail is the best way to catch me. You have a question I can answer, shoot one down the line. If you don’t get an answer in four or five days, resubmit the e-mail. I answer them pretty quick and it should have been answered.

  In my next yarn about the O’Malley brothers of Texas, Harp will have to deal with the Mexican ranches south of the border that came with the Three Star Ranch that they bought in this deal. Until our next ride, hold on to your hat and don’t let that horse duck his head.

  God Bless you all,

  Dusty Richards

  dustyrichards@cox.net

  Don’t miss the first book in the

  remarkable new series

  THE O’MALLEYS OF TEXAS

  by Western Heritage Award–Winning Author

  DUSTY RICHARDS

  As Civil War bloodies the nation’s ground,

  Texas Rangers Harp and Long John O’Malley patrol a vast, unguarded range, picking off the brutal Comanche while protecting the families of soldiers off fighting at the front.

  Bullet by bullet, the O’Malleys distinguish themselves as two of the bravest gunfighters to ever wear the Rangers’ star. At war’s end, the Rangers are disbanded, but Harp and Long John are not through fighting yet. They sign on with a cattle drive that will take them across the most treacherous and deadly stretch of the American frontier: the long trail from Texas to Sedalia. Beset by ruthless enemies inside and outside the camp,

  Harp and Long John aim dead straight for the future—where a great ranching fortune awaits back in a Texas they will change forever.

  “Dusty Richards writes . . . with the flavor of the real West.”

  —ELMER KELTON

  ON SALE NOW!

  PROLOGUE: THE LONG DRIVE TO SEDALIA

  Easter Coble walked through the cold dark night keeping the long wool coat tightly wrapped around her. The celestial sky projected outlines of the towering oak trees that cast long shadows and patches of starlight on the ground. A tall girl of seventeen, with blond braids coiled on her head, she was headed toward the man she loved—Norton Horsekiller. He waited for her in the log shed full of hay that her father called a barn. The snugly built cabin behind her was dark—her parents were sound asleep. They wouldn’t miss her during the short meeting with him.

  Her father never approved of Horsekiller as her suitor. Said he was too wild to ever be a real provider and would never furnish her needs as a wife and mother. But the six-foot-tall young woman had her own ideas, and, headstrong, she snuck out to meet her lover.

  In the barn’s darkness, he shocked her by sweeping her in his arms and kissing her. She swooned in his hug. After their kiss he went to quickly telling her how he and three others were going to the buffalo land called the Cherokee Outlet that the tribe owned farther west. He would come back rich with wagonloads of hides and meat, and then he would marry her.

  “Tonight we can begin our married life. I will return shortly with many wagonloads piled high with meat and hides. Even your father will be impressed by my wealth when I marry you. Tonight I need your body for good luck on my hunt. It won’t hurt you, and we will be bonded as man and wife forever.”

  Beguiled by his words and skills at arousing her, she agreed and did as he asked, both of them wrapped inside the blanket he’d brought, lying together on top of the sweet-smelling hay. After he’d kissed her good-bye and was gone, while sneaking back into the house she wondered about his words. Once inside, she felt disappointed that her transgression that night with him was not as uplifting as she had expected. But she was to be his wife when he returned triumphant from the big hunt, so the path of her life after this night was cut and dried. She was to be Horsekiller’s woman for better or worse when he returned.

  From that day forth she prayed a lot for his safety and success. To escape her discouraging thoughts she read from the Bible, more to submerge her worries and the questions from her mother and father about where he went off to. But when morning sickness struck, Easter alarmed her mother, who sat her down and asked her if she had a baby in her womb—did she?

  Easter collapsed in tears and told her mother the entire story about her hopes and dreams. But her mother shocked her, saying no simple Indian like him could ever go out there and get rich killing buffalo without money and wagons. He had most certainly lied to her.

  That night she imagined that Norton’s son inside her belly kicked her while she was crying on her wet pillowcase. She sat up, stiffened her back, and decided, by damn, she’d have the baby and raise him, no matter what happened to her personally.

  Border gangs made up of both renegade Indians and outlaws raided settlers and small settlements up and down the Arkansas–Indian Territory line, striking fear in everyone during those years before the Civil War. The scattered families slept with their guns ready night and day. Her mother even became proficient with a shotgun that Easter could quickly reload for her.

  One day a tall, big strapping man named Hiram O’Malley came by. His long blond hair was shoulder length and his face clean-shaven. They said he was near thirty years old and the head of the Home Protection Society. This organization was made up of the farmers, storekeepers, and residents around Cincinnati, Arkansas. Hiram rode a fine horse and recently had become widowed when his wife had drowned during a picnic on the Illinois River. Easter also learned, from gossip, they had no living children at the time.

  A so-called newly formed band of bushwhackers struck first north of Easter’s folks’ farm at a mill on Brush Creek. They kidnapped two young girls after they slaughtered several other people on the site and set fire to the water-powered mill.

  Word spread fast after the incident. Hiram came, himself, to tell her father about the raid and for them to be ready for more trouble. Her father had his black powder single-shot rifle leaning on the log fence where the three of them worked in their bountiful garden—her pa, her mother, and Easter.

  Easter recalled the head bobbing, powerful red stallion that O’Malley rode by there that day. His mouth at the bits lathered like his shoulders from the fast trip his rider made to get there and warn them. The great horse kept half rearing as if anxious to run again. But she also saw the glint in Hiram’s blue eyes when their glance met and he tipped his hat to Easter and her mother. “Good day, ladies.”

  “Good day to you and thank you, sir,” Easter said proudly.

  “I wish these were better times, ma’am. But they aren’t,” he apologized almost singly to her, then galloped away to warn others.

  What a bright brilliant man bravely sacrificing his life for all of them. She felt very impressed and also lucky he could not see the obvious swell of her son’s form in her belly under the generous-size new dress that her mother had sewn for her.

  Two days later she walked the two miles to the store in Cincinnati, with her mother, to get a few items they needed like baking powder and a block of tea. Coffee beans were too high priced for her mother to charge on their store account.

  At the store a young Cherokee woman approached Easter and pulled her aside. The woman told her mother that Easter would be along shortly but that she had some words for her first. Her mother frowned but went on with her shopping.

  “What words do you have for me?” Easter asked her.

  “I am sorry to be a bearer of such bad news. But your man, Horsekiller, is dead.”

  “Horsekiller is dead?” She felt light-headed at the shocking news. Her knees buckled and she fainted.

  When she woke up she found herself seated on her butt, and both her mother and Lily Four-Oaks, who had given her the bad news, were staring at her with shocked looks on their faces.

  “Easter, what is wrong?” her mother asked.

  “Oh, Mother. She said he is dead.”

  “Who is dead?”

  “Horsekiller. He and both of his companions were shot, killed, and robbed out in the Cherokee
Outlet,” Lily answered.

  “Are you telling us the truth or is it some rumor you simply heard?” her mother demanded of Lily.

  “No, the truth. My cousin was with him and he is dead as well. I knew she didn’t know.”

  “Oh, dear, this is bad news,” her mother said, hugging the sobbing Easter. “Baby, I am so sorry, but this, too, will work out for you.”

  “But, Mother, he will never see his son.”

  “My dear, there are many things he will be deprived of ever doing. But we, the living, must survive.”

  “Do you have his baby?” Lily asked quietly as she knelt beside her.

  Easter nodded.

  “I am so sorry. My cousin Rose Big Star is carrying one of his, too.”

  Easter glared at her. “Are you certain?”

  “Why would I lie?”

  Easter struggled to her feet. “It was a good thing they killed him out there or I would have killed him myself for lying to me.”

  Lily looked more shocked as Easter’s mom stood up and said, “We don’t need to make any more gossip or threats for the entire world to hear, my dear. Tonight you and I will tell Father and make plans.”

  “Mother, he will be so mad at me.”

  “No. You are his only living child. He worships you. He will worship the boy, too, when he comes.”

  “You know you are having a boy?” Lily asked, wide eyed.

  “Some things you know in your heart,” Easter’s mother said.

  “Oh, Easter, I hated to tell you about him, but you needed to know.”

  “Yes, and I am grateful. Quietly tell your cousin I am sorry for her, too,” Easter said.

  “Oh, I will.” Lily took her hands and squeezed them. “May the Great Spirit be with you and with him, too.” She meant the one in Easter’s belly.

  “I hope so. Thanks, Lily.”

  Her mother turned to Easter. “Rest here a moment; I will get my things and we can go home.”