“Kind of early to check the saloons.”
Justin shot an annoyed glare his way.
“Well, it was just a thought.” Spence got up, strapped on his gunbelt, and grabbed his hat. “Heard rumors that the new owner fired all the old Box X crew to bring in his own men but hired Phil Smith as his foreman.”
Trouble like a dark cloud formed after hearing the news. “Well, that’s the owner’s right. Don’t agree with it but nothing we can do about it.”
“No sir. I thought you should know. Think there might be some angry cowboys in those saloons.”
“Let’s see if we can put some fires out before they get started.” Justin walked into the street and noted the considerable chill in the air. He gazed to the north and snugged his coat tight. Deep blue clouds promised more trouble. They matched perfectly with his mood. He hated to admit it, but he was ready for a fight.
“We’ll check the Shady Lady first.” He didn’t wait or care if Spence concurred.
Justin eyed the horses lined up at the hitching post, wanting to see his big bay but didn’t. He shoved open the doors to the saloon and let his eyes become accustomed to the dark interior. Unlike its usual festive air, the gloom in the place was as palpable as the smoke in the room.
Men stared at him, neither challenging nor friendly. Then they turned to their drinks and low talk.
Seeing the bartender, Justin walked to the bar. “Shorty, looks like business is booming today, and it’s not even Saturday.”
The lanky bartender filled a glass and swung it down the counter to a thirsty cowboy. “Lot of men lost their job. Going to be trouble, Sheriff. Was about to send word to you. The talk’s getting ugly.”
“Who’s starting it?”
Shorty pointed to Carl Shipman. “He’s been here since last night. I think he’s got his boys riled and drunk enough to do something they’re going to regret. I quit serving them liquor an hour ago.”
“Thanks. I’ll see what I can do.” Justin strode to Carl’s table. “Hear you’re talking about making trouble.”
Spence hung back by the door.
“None of your business, Yank.” Carl propped his feet in the empty chair in front of Justin.
Justin jerked the chair from him, causing the man to lurch forward. “I’m the law in Bluebonnet. That makes it my business.”
After regaining his balance, Carl sneered. “For now you are. I wouldn’t get too comfortable having that star on your shirt.”
Tired of the man’s drunken insolence, Justin moved around the table, grabbed him by the collar, and hauled him out of his chair. “Get this straight, Carl. Any problems at the Box X and I come after you.” He threw the man back in his chair.
Hatred flared in the man’s dark eyes. “Better be able to back up your play, Sheriff. I’m not alone.”
Justin hit the badge with his fist. “I’ve got the state of Texas behind me. I think that’s all the backing I need.”
“Maybe.” Carl turned away from him.
Seeing a number of the Box X hands, Justin backed up to the bar and banged an empty beer glass on the hard wood. “Listen up. All you men who used to work for the Box X, the new owner is within his rights. There’s nothing the law can do to help you, but if you go against the law, there’s plenty the law can do to you. Take this as a warning. Move on, there are plenty of ranches across Texas. If you can’t find work here, leave Bluebonnet.”
Grumbles and murmurs erupted around the room.
“Think about it.”
One of the hands pointed at him. “You know what that new owner’s gone and did? He’s bringing a unit of Yankee troops to take our jobs.”
Justin winced and then grinned.
Carl sneered at him. “You think that’s funny? Might have known you’d sympathize with the Yanks.”
Justin held up his hands. “I was thinking on how Yankee troops know nothing about cattle or Texas. Play your hands right boys, and that new owner might be begging you to come work for him. Besides, I heard he wasn’t a Yank but British.”
Light shone in one of the ranch hand’s eyes. “Think they don’t know how to do our jobs?”
“It’s possible. I’m from Minnesota, and I can guarantee you that no one in my home state would have the faintest idea what to do with those longhorn beasts on the Texas range.”
Even Carl sat up, listened, and stared at him minus the hatred he’d exhibited earlier.
“Just give it a few weeks and don’t make me have to arrest you.” Confident he’d given the men something to think about, Justin walked to Spencer who gave him a respectful nod.
Outside the saloon, Spence stopped him. “That was a smart move. Hope what you said works out for those boys. Jobs don’t come easy anymore.”
“I hope it does, too. Let’s check out the Hole in the Wall saloon and make sure no one’s going to quit on life. Then we’ll see what we can find out at the Cattlemen’s. I have a feeling we’ll find a lot of our answers there.”
Justin left the Hole in the Wall, satisfied the men drowning in their beer would go on to another day. He eyed the horses in front of The Cattlemen’s Saloon.
His deputy looked nervously at the big saloon. “Want me to stay outside?”
“No. Why?”
Spence kicked at the dirt. “I don’t like the place. Don’t like Harold or the men who work for him. Don’t like to think what they did to Sally.”
“I’ll just be a minute. Doubt any of the cowhands that lost their jobs would be in there anyway. The place is a little rich for their pay.” Justin walked inside. Unlike the other two saloons, this one was well lit and bright, cheery almost, although a curtain of smoke weighed heavy in the air along with an oppressive spirit.
Harold Rayburn nodded to him and got up from the table where he always sat to survey his holdings. “Sheriff, it’s always a pleasure to see Bluebonnet’s law make the rounds. How can I help you?”
Justin hated Rayburn’s patronizing ways. “The new owner of the Box X is taking over soon. Wondered if you knew who that might be?”
“No. Not really.”
The man was lying. Justin knew that for sure. Why, was the question? “Also heard, he fired all the ranch hands from the Box X. I wanted to make sure none of them were here and planning trouble.”
Harold swung his arm around. “You’re free to look.”
Justin gazed over the room. Most of the men ignored him. One of the gamblers stared at him, but didn’t move to make a challenge. Justin looked upstairs at the balcony and closed doors.
The owner stepped in front of him. “Upstairs is off limits.”
“Beating any more girls?”
Harold’s eyes narrowed. “That’s not allowed in my establishment. I took care of Sally. Paid the doctor and even tried to give Mya the funds to cover her room.”
Justin gave him a wry grin. “Your money wasn’t any good at Mya’s, was it?”
“You already know the answer. Now, if you’ve seen enough, I have things to do.” Harold walked away and went to his office in the back.
Disgusted with the man and the fact there was nothing he could do about him, Justin left the saloon.
Spence stood by the hitching post, patting the nose of sleepy horse. “Anything new?”
“No. Would like to run him and his saloon out of town, but there’s no law in Bluebonnet that allows for it.” Justin stared at the sun.
“I can take over from here. It has to be close to noon.” Spence grinned.
Heat flushed Justin’s neck. “Thanks. I’ll be back later.” He sent one last look at the horses lined up against the hitching post. His bay wasn’t among them.
He thought of the hour and business at hand, smiled, and ran behind the jail.
###
Wilbur Williams, Wills to his friends, kept the skittish mustang to a walk. “Easy boy. We should see Bluebonnet any time now. Liveryman in Fort Worth said a day’s hard ride. We’ve taken it easy, so I figure a little after noon we should get to
town.”
He eased out his lariat and swung it gently by the side of the sturdy sorrel. “You’re going to have to learn to get along with the rope, Sundance. It’s my weapon of choice.”
The gelding snorted and sidestepped from the touch.
Wills let the horse stay at a walk while getting used to the rope. After a few miles, he looked up the road. “There it is.” Wills gazed as a steeple came into view. “Good to know it’s a churchgoing town.”
Rolling up the rope, he secured it to the saddle and nudged the horse into a lope. The letter crinkled in his pocket, reminding him of the perfumed smell and Sally Jones. He liked the sound of her name.
Topping the hill, he rode beside the quaint white church. Across the street was what must have been an impressive house. Half the house’s white paint had worn away while the trim was fighting a losing battle to hold onto its peach color.
Down the road into town, he saw a row of shops and buildings on one side of the square. A few scattered across the street, and a string of saloons at the far west end.
Wills staked out the sheriff’s office and headed toward it. The town was quiet. Only a few horses stood tied to hitching posts, most outside of Clark’s General Store.
“Whoa, boy.” Wills reined the mustang to a halt. He dismounted and after tying the horse, he stepped onto the boardwalk and walked to the sheriff’s office. He knocked and then entered.
No one was at the desk.
“Hello? Sheriff?”
Springs creaked from one of the two cells. A sleepy deputy sat up and wiped his eyes. “Something wrong?” He rose and walked to the desk.
“No. I was hoping to talk to the sheriff.”
“He’s out.”
Extending his hand, Wills gave the deputy a grin. “Wilbur Williams. You can call me Wills.”
“Spencer Gray. I’m the deputy.” He didn’t say more but his eyes questioned as he shook hands.
Wills cocked his head and shoved a hand into his jacket pocket. “I’ve come to Bluebonnet with the intention of opening my practice.”
A slight frown crooked the deputy’s lips. “Practicing what?”
Wills chuckled. “Law. I’m an attorney.”
“Sheriff Wellesley and I are all the law we need here in Bluebonnet.” Spencer stuffed his hands into his pockets.
“No, I write up contracts like for land or partnerships, wills—”
“That why your friends call you Wills?”
Wills took in the Spartan jail and the young deputy. “No, but I guess it fits. I can also represent clients for their defense in criminal matters.”
Spencer looked at him as if he’d just said the oddest thing. “Well, might be good that you came. You’re likely to get some business when Justin, the sheriff, finds whoever stole his horse.”
“Let me know. I’d be glad to help. Any vacant buildings I can buy?”
The deputy shook his head. “No, but if you have the money, you can get wood delivered and build. Lots of room on the south side of the town square.”
“I’ll do that.” He tipped his hat and left the office.
Sundance nickered.
“Miss me, boy?” He fished in his pocket, brought out a package, and gave Sundance a piece of candy. He untied the horse and led him past the jail as a laughing young couple came from behind the alley.
The man stopped and put a hand out to halt the young lady. She was carrying a basket as if they’d just returned from a picnic.
Wills nodded. “Hello.”
The young man held out his hand. “Justin Wellesley, I’m the sheriff of Bluebonnet.”
Gazing at the young woman and seeing her blush, Wills figured they must be married. “And your wife?”
Now, the sheriff’s face reddened. “We’re not married. Not yet. Haven’t seen you around town before.”
“No, just rode in. I was hoping to find space to rent until I can build an office to set up my law practice.”
The young woman came forward. “Check with the dress shop across the street. I think Mrs. Burkett and her husband are leaving.” She wiped a hand on her skirt and then extended it. “Oh, I’m Amelia Clark. My family owns the general store.”
Wills shook her hand lightly. “Thank you, miss.” She was a lovely woman. “Better marry her soon, Sheriff. She’s as delightful in personality as to look at.”
Justin frowned and stepped closer to her. “I intend to. If you want, I’ll walk with you to the Burkett’s store and introduce you to them.”
Wills grinned. “Fine by me.” He tipped his hat. “Miss.”
Amelia grabbed his arm. “Please, don’t tell anyone you saw us together. My parents—”
Justin’s piercing gaze warned him away. “Her parents don’t want her to marry a sheriff, but I can take care of her and, in time, settle their misgivings about my profession.”
“I’m sure you can, Sheriff. Your secret is safe with me, Amelia.” Wills turned his horse and started across the square to seek out the dress shop. He’d let the sheriff and his girl say their secret goodbyes.
Patting the sorrel’s neck, Wills shook his head. “Oh Sundance, what troubles the human race makes for itself. However, noble steed that you are, you wouldn’t understand that. No, we humans tend to make trouble upon trouble.” He paused at the well and let his horse drink.
A cool breeze ruffled his hair. He’d let it grow too long and needed to find a barber. Giving a look behind, he witnessed the couple’s quick embrace, and then the sheriff came his way. Wills relaxed. There’d be too little time for him to delve into the memories that caused him to come to Texas. For that, he was grateful.
“All right, Mr. Williams. Let’s see if we can’t find you a place. What brought you here to Bluebonnet?”
Wills fell in step with the long-legged lawman. “Business.” That was as far as he wanted to share. Seems he had his secrets too.
“Fair enough. Bluebonnet is a good town, but it’s growing, and could use a good attorney. Where are you from?”
“Chicago.”
Justin slowed. “Illinois. Abe Lincoln’s home state. That’s going to count against you. You’re not here to use the laws to take land away from Texans, are you?” He stopped and faced him.
The question caught Wills off guard. The war was over. At least, the north thought it was. “No. I got personal reasons.”
Justin probed him with a searing gaze and then relaxed. “Good. Union taxes are breaking the south worse than the fighting. Many have lost their land. Best if you don’t represent Yankees against Texans.”
“I’ll keep it in mind.”
“I’m from the north, too. Minnesota. But I’ve earned these people’s trust, and I have to say, I’m not too happy about what’s being done to them.”
Wills frowned. Last thing he wanted was to step into more turmoil. “Didn’t think you sounded Texan. And thanks for the warning.”
Justin started walking again. “I hate the anger that war stirred up. I fought for the Union. Never got hurt, but saw enough pain to last a dozen lifetimes.”
Wills sought to divert his thoughts and the pain he still carried in his heart. This Sally, he hoped he could be a good husband to her. He owed it to her for Carly’s sake.
The sheriff pointed at a neat two-story building. “Here we are. It’s small, but you can live upstairs.”
“Perfect size.” He tied the sorrel to the post and followed Justin.
The sheriff opened the door. “Mrs. Burkett, I have someone interested in your store.”
A thin woman of maybe thirty bustled from the back room. “Oh, what an answer to prayer. My husband and I are moving back to San Antonio to be with our families.”
Wills introduced himself and then looked around. “How soon will you be leaving?”
“Mr. Williams, as soon as you can pay us.”
He smiled. “I’ve got the money with me. I checked in Fort Worth, and they didn’t think you had a bank here in Bluebonnet.”
The
sheriff leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. “Nope. That’s another business we need in town. Texas is still a wild place and scares off some investors.”
Wills nodded. “Mrs. Burkett, when you and your husband are ready, I can draw up the papers and hand over the money.”
“Bless you. I, we didn’t know what we were going to do. When Edward comes in, I’ll let him know. Where will you be?”
With a shrug, he looked to Justin.
The sheriff moved toward the door. “I’ll take him to the hotel. Send word and I’ll see that he gets it.”
Tears seeped down her face. “You’re an answer to prayer, Mr. Williams. Oh, and we built a house one street over. We still had a few things to do to it so we never moved in. We’d be happy to include it in the deal.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” Wills tipped his hat to her and followed the sheriff out the door. “Well, that was easy. I can find the livery and hotel on my own.” He paused and looked over the town. “I do have one more question.”
Justin stopped. “What’s that?”
“Where would I find a Sally Jones?”
The Sheriff’s face darkened. “Why?”
“Well, that’s personal. Perhaps I need to find Nettie Andrews first.”
Justin crossed his arms. “She’s my aunt. What do you want with her?”
“That’s personal, too. I’m sure she’ll tell you later.”
With a suspicious look, Justin pointed west. “Nettie and her husband are on a ranch just west and north of town. If your horse is not too tired, you can get there in an hour. Misfit Ranch. There’s a sign on the road. You won’t miss it.”
“Thanks, Sheriff. I’ll be back before dinner.”
“I doubt that. Nettie loves company so you can probably count on her feeding you.” The sheriff crossed his arms. “You’re not meaning them any trouble, are you?”
“No. I can assure you, I am not bringing them any trouble.”
“I watch out for them. Just so you know.”
Wills mounted his horse and rode away, feeling the sheriff’s gaze follow him.
A Bluebonnet Misfit Christmas: Sweet Historical Christian Western Romance (Mail Order Brides of Misfit Ranch Bluebonnet, Texas Book 2) Page 2
