Burning

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Burning Page 20

by William W. Johnstone


  “What can I do for you, Wilbur?” Frank asked the undertaker.

  “The dead man didn’t have any money on him, Marshal.”

  Frank tapped Steve’s wallet on the desk. “Plenty of money in here, Wilbur. Give him a good funeral.”

  “When was he born, Marshal?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “How about his horse and rig and guns?”

  “I plan to sell them and give the money to the town.”

  “Fine idea, Marshal,” the man said brightly. “Fine idea. Well, I best get to work.”

  “You do that, Wilbur.”

  After the undertaker had gone, Frank poured another mug of coffee and took it back into the cell block. “Got some coffee for you, Dale,” he told the Diamond hand. “Give a shout when you’re hungry and I’ll get you something to eat.”

  “’Preciate it, Marshal. Sorry ’bout the way I talked back yonder in the saloon.”

  “You just had too much Who Hit John, Dale. It’s happened to us all one time or another.”

  “When can I get out of here?”

  “You got ten dollars for your fine?”

  “Shore.”

  “All right. Just as soon as the GP hands ride out, I’ll cut you loose. How about that?”

  “Sounds good to me. Say, you ain’t got the makin’s on you, have you? I seem to have lost mine.”

  Frank handed him a tobacco sack and papers. “Keep them, Dale. I have more in my desk.”

  Dale studied Frank’s face for a moment. “You’re all right, Marshal. You’ll do to ride the river with. You’ll have no more trouble out of me. You have my word.”

  “Sounds good to me, Dale. Enjoy your coffee and smoke. I’ll be back to cut you loose in an hour or so.”

  Dale grinned. “I reckon I’ll still be here. Say, Marshal, this jail ain’t never been used, has it?”

  “You’re the first person to be locked up, Dale.”

  “That’s kind of an honor, ain’t it?”

  “Well . . . I guess you could look at it that way.”

  “I ought to scratch my name in the rock, so’s people will remember me.”

  “Go right ahead, Dale.”

  “Believe I’ll do that.”

  Frank walked out of the cell block and through the office, out onto the boardwalk, smiling at Dale’s remarks. Frank had never considered being put in jail much of an honor.

  “Something amusing, Marshal?” Reverend Carmondy asked, walking up to Frank.

  “Just something the prisoner said, Richard. How are you and Lydia today?”

  “Both of us are well, thank you. Lydia is busy ordering books for the opening of school this fall.”

  “I’m sure she’ll be a fine teacher.”

  “Without a doubt, Marshal. Well, I must be on my way. I promised to stop by and visit some elderly ladies today. We’re going to discuss the Bible.”

  “The Bible answers all things, right, Richard?”

  “Certainly!”

  “But sometimes a man sort of has to read between the lines, so to speak, right?”

  “I don’t know what you mean, Marshal.”

  “Well . . . I’ve read the Bible many times. Not the entire thing, mind you. But I enjoy just opening the Bible and reading.”

  “You have read God’s word?”

  “Many times, Richard. You believe that animals, such as dogs, cats, horses, go to heaven?”

  Richard Carmondy looked at Frank for a long moment. “As a matter of fact, Frank, I do. Does that surprise you?”

  “Not at all.” Frank smiled and patted the preacher on the arm. “See you around, Richard.” He walked away.

  Richard stood and watched Frank walk away. Then he shook his head. “What a strange man. Simple in his style of life and wants, yet . . . so complex in other ways.”

  “Seen you talkin’ to the preacher, Frank,” John Platt said as Frank walked up to the livery. “Looked like it might have been serious.”

  “Oh, not really.” He told John what they had discussed.

  John nodded his head solemnly. “I believe that, Frank. I just know my good horses and dogs is waitin’ for me inside the Pearly Gates. I think it would be a sorry damn place if they wasn’t.”

  “So do I, John. So do I.”

  “Five more gunslicks rode out ’bout an hour ago. Did you see ’em?”

  “No. Did you recognize any of them?”

  “Not nary a one. But they was gunfighters. I’m sure of that. That don’t leave too many still on the Diamond payroll.”

  “Just the really bad ones, John.”

  “Minus Steve Harlon.”

  Frank looked at the liveryman for a moment. “Yes.”

  “Did he have any kin or friends who might decide to come after you, Frank?”

  “I don’t think so. I didn’t find any trace of family in his belongings, an’ from what he said as he was dyin’, I don’t think he kept in touch with whatever family he may have had.”

  “You know, even takin’ into consideration what kind of man he was, that’s sad, Frank.”

  “I know. I felt the same way, John. But it’s the life the Big Dealer handed us. So we live with it.”

  “You’re not puttin’ yourself in the same class as Steve Harlon, are you, Frank?”

  “In a way, yes.”

  “That’s balderdash! I ain’t never heard of you hirin’ out your gun.”

  “I’ve still got the brand of gunfighter on me, John. And no matter what I do, I’ll always have it”

  John shook his head in doubt. “People who know you put the man first, Frank.”

  Frank did not reply. He was watching a lone rider come in from the east end of town.

  “Lucy Perkins,” John said, following Frank’s gaze. “All by herself too. Wonder where Peaches is.”

  “I don’t know. But I need to speak to Lucy and cut that Diamond hand loose from jail. See you, John.”

  “You be careful, Frank. Lucy’s got a mean streak in her.”

  Frank waved and walked across the street just as Lucy was reining up in front of the dress shop.

  “Miss Perkins,” Frank called, “may I speak with you for a moment?”

  Lucy turned and looked at him. “Sure. Why not? What’s on your mind, Marshal?”

  “Peace between the Diamond spread and the rest of the valleys.”

  “Good luck, Marshal.” She cocked her head to one side and smiled at him. “You figure I can help you do that?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “I’d be real interested in learnin’ how, Marshal.”

  “How about I buy you a cup of coffee?”

  “Sounds good to me”

  “I’ve got to turn a man out of jail first. I’ll meet you at the café.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  Five minutes later, Dale was riding out of town, heading back to the Diamond, and Frank was sitting at a table with Lucy Perkins.

  “How can I help heal these valleys, Marshal?” Lucy asked.

  “You like Mike Rogers, Lucy?”

  The young woman smiled as a bright red blush started at her shoulders and worked its way up her neck to cover her cheeks. She really was a very pretty young lady. “You get around, don’t you, Marshal?”

  “I listen. I hear things.”

  She nodded her head as she sugared her coffee and added some milk from a small pitcher on the table. “Me and Mike been sort of likin’ each other ever since we first learned to walk.”

  “What’s been keeping you apart?”

  “You sure you ain’t that Cupid fellow in disguise, Marshal?”

  Frank got a laugh out of that. “That is something I’m really sure of, Lucy.”

  Lucy smiled, and her eyes went vacant for a moment as she considered Frank’s question. “Well, first it was Mike’s pa kept us from really courtin’. He was always afraid if Mike and me got together, my father might try to interfere in the Diamond ranch’s business.”

  “Is that all?”<
br />
  She shook her head slowly, her eyes turning sad. “No, my father was also against it. Seems he felt there was somethin’ wrong with Mike’s dad’s mind an’ that if Mike an’ me were to have kids, it might be inherited or somethin’.”

  Frank looked at Lucy over the rim of his coffee cup as he drank. “You’re old enough now to make up your own mind about who you want to court, Lucy,” he said.

  “That’s right, Marshal, an’ now that you mention it, I might just decide to mosey on over to the Diamond spread and see if Mike’s still interested in us hooking up.” She put her coffee cup down and stared at Frank. “But don’t think that’s gonna make any difference in this range war. Even if I could convince Mike it’s the wrong thing to be doin’, it won’t make any difference at all.”

  “Why not?”

  “’Cause Mark runs the Diamond, Marshal, not Mike. I think if Mike tried to interfere, Mark would turn hard against him.”

  “Violently, you mean?”

  The young woman solemnly nodded her head. “You bet. Mark doesn’t like Mike. Never has.”

  “Why?”

  “Mike is smarter, by a whole bunch. Mark can’t hardly even write his name. Mark has never read a book in his entire life. Mike reads all the time. He knows what’s goin’ on all over the nation. I mean, he’s usually three, four months behind, ’cause of the delay in gettin’ newspapers in here, but he knows what’s goin’ on, you can bet on that.”

  “You think Mark would physically hurt his brother if Mike tried to take over the Diamond?”

  “In a heartbeat.” She smiled. “Well, he’d try, at least.”

  Frank picked up on the smile immediately. “Mike’s got a few secrets he’s kept from his brother?”

  Lucy nodded, a sly grin on her face. “Mark thinks he’s slick with a gun. But he’s a big nothin’ compared to Mike. Mike is a natural with a pistol. He just doesn’t think a gun is the answer to very much.”

  “He’s right.”

  “Strange remark comin’ from you, Frank Morgan.”

  Frank shrugged that off. “Mike is quick with a six-gun?”

  “He ain’t near’bouts as fast as you . . . hell, who is? But he’s better than his brother, for sure. And he’s a crack shot. He rides off miles from the house to keep in practice. Never wears a gun around the ranch house.”

  “I’d like to speak with Mike. You think you could arrange that?”

  She thought about it for a moment, and then she nodded, her eyes happy. “Sure. I think I’m gonna take me a ride over to the Diamond spread in the mornin’. I’ll tell ’em I’ve come to see Peaches, but I’ll find a way to tell Mike you want to see him.”

  “Does Peaches know how you and Mike feel about each other?”

  “Sure. She’s sweet on a man owns a small ranch over near the county seat. They’ll get hitched one of these days. Marshal, I know what people think and say about me and Peaches. But hardly any of it is true. I know we sometimes have bad mouths, but we’re not bad girls. If my daddy ever even thought I was cuddlin’ in a hayloft with a man, he’d beat me half to death. And Big Mark would have done the same with Peaches.”

  Frank smiled. “I thought that might have been the case.”

  The young woman blushed again. “Me and Peaches was just funnin’ and eggin’ that gunslick on. That Doolin fellow. If he had made a move towards me or Peaches, we’d a took off like a whirlwind.”

  Frank nodded his head. “You tell Mike I want to see him. All right?”

  “I’ll tell him tomorrow.”

  After Lucy had left, Frank sat for a time longer, drinking coffee and smoking. If he could just get Mike in control of the Diamond. Things would smooth out in a hurry.

  If...

  Twenty-eight

  Lucy rode into town about noon of the day after meeting with Frank. She rode in from the west, and that told Frank the young woman had indeed been out to the Diamond spread. She reined up in front of the marshal’s office, where Frank was standing on the boardwalk.

  “Mike’ll be waitin’ at Beaver Creek, Marshal. Where it splits off’fore goin’ underground for a time. You know the place?”

  “I do. When?”

  “Right now, Marshal. He left ’bout the same time I did.”

  “Thanks, Lucy. Did you and Mike set a date?” He asked that with a smile.

  “We always talk ’bout gettin’ hitched, Marshal, but we’ve never gotten right down to plannin’ an actual time ’cause of our families. I’m hoping we might be able to tie the knot when this war is over.”

  “That might be sooner than you think.”

  “It can’t be soon enough for me. I wish you luck with Mike.”

  “Thanks, Lucy.”

  She nodded her head and rode away, back toward GP range.

  Frank motioned toward a young boy across the street, and the boy hotfooted it over to Frank.

  “Run down to the livery and tell John to saddle my horse, boy.” He handed the boy a twenty-five-cent piece. “Will you do that?”

  “You bet, Marshal,” the boy said, pocketing the quarter. “I’m gone!”

  An hour and a half later, Frank swung down from the saddle and walked up to a young man standing under a lightning-blazed tree and stuck out his hand. “We finally get to meet, Mike.”

  Mike took the hand in a firm grip. “Marshal Morgan. I’m glad you asked Lucy to set up this meeting. I’ve wanted to meet you ever since you came into the valleys.”

  “You think we can help put an end to this fight, Mike?”

  “We can try. What do you have in mind?”

  “That’s just it, Mike. I don’t have a plan. I thought we’d talk some and maybe come up with something.”

  “I brought a coffeepot and some coffee.”

  “I’ll get the water and start up a small fire.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  Over steaming tin cups of hot, strong coffee, Frank and the younger man talked.

  “With Pa dead and Mark in control, this war is never going to end,” Mike said.

  “How did your father’s will read?” Frank asked.

  “A third of the ranch to each of the children. But . . . the oldest son to be in charge. Pa knew I always preached getting along with the farmers. There’s plenty of land for us all.” He smiled, the humor reaching his eyes. “What Pa didn’t know is that I been having people file on land and then buying it from them since I came of age. I own a lot of land that Pa thought—and Mark still thinks—is Diamond land.”

  “Wise of you,” Frank complimented the young man. “How about the water rights?”

  “Belongs to me. Near about all of it. And I’m a firm believer in building stock ponds.”

  “Drought comes, you’ll sure need them. How about working capital for the spread?”

  Mike shook his head. “I can’t answer that one, Marshal. Mark has the combination to Pa’s safe. When I ask him about money, he gets mad. But I know where Pa kept his emergency funds. Mark doesn’t know about that little hidey-hole.”

  “Would your sister back you up against Mark?”

  “I think she would. Oh, hell, I know she would. She wants to get married and out of here, and I’ve told her I’ll donate some of the land I own for her and her new man to make a start on. She’s commented that Mark is acting as crazy as Pa did before he died.”

  “You’ve lost a few more gunslingers, I heard.”

  “I wish they’d all leave. But there is little chance of that.”

  “How many are left out there, Mike?”

  “Eighteen, at last count.”

  “And most of them are very good at their work.”

  “That’s one way of putting it.”

  Frank smiled at that. “I hear you’re a pretty good hand with a six-gun yourself, Mike.”

  His eyes opened wide and a flush appeared on his cheeks. “My friend Lucy talks too much, Marshal.”

  “I think she’s a good kid.”

  “Oh, she is. But both she an
d my sister, Peaches, are all mouth, nothing more. They enjoy shocking people.” He grinned. “Especially some of those straitlaced old biddies in town.”

  “I witnessed that,” Frank said.

  “I heard,” Mike said with a laugh. “You also scared the crap out of both those girls.”

  “They needed it.”

  “You’ll get no argument from me about that.” Mike finished his coffee. “All right, Marshal Morgan, I’ll see if I can’t come up with a plan to wrest the leadership of Diamond from my brother. But if my sister and I succeed in doing that, you know what’s going to happen.”

  “Tell me. I want to hear it from you. I want you to fully understand this move.”

  “My brother will turn outlaw to save his hold on Diamond. He’s got enough money to buy support from the gunslingers and he’ll try to kill me.” He sighed. “And if he fails, he’ll hit the hoot-owl trail and still try to keep this range war going.”

  Frank poured another cup of coffee and leaned back against an old weather-beaten log. “That might happen. Unless he pulls something that I can arrest him on and hold him long enough for you to take control of the Diamond and talk some sense into him.”

  “That might just work,” Mike said doubtfully. “But when Mark rides off Diamond range he’s got half a dozen hired guns with him. Trying to arrest him would turn bloody in a heartbeat.”

  Frank nodded his head in understanding. “How about your regular cowhands?”

  “They’ll back me. To a man.”

  Frank rolled a smoke and thumbnailed a match into flame. “Quietly pass the word to them to stick close to you and Peaches.”

  “I already have,” the young man said softly.

  * * *

  Frank went back to his ranch, and fed Dog and gave Stormy a good brushing and some oats to eat. After he’d fixed himself something to eat, he walked out into the fields and talked to the men who were sharecropping his land. He took a bucket of fresh, cold well water with him, and they took a break from tilling the fields and had a long talk with Frank.

  Once he found they were still happy with their business relationship and needed nothing, he went back to the house and busied himself with doing some light repairs around the place. Dog followed him around as he mended fences and straightened barn doors and did the things necessary to keep a place in good repair.

 

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