Texas Iron

by Robert J. Randisi

  “I’ll get that food off the stove before it burns,” Dude Miller said.

  Jubal walked Sam to the livery, while Evan stayed at the house with Serena. Dude Miller walked with them as far as his store.

  “Don’t be too hard on Serena, Sam,” he said before they parted company. “She’s grown very fond of the three of you, and she doesn’t want to see anything happen to you.”

  “I don’t hold that against her, Dude,” Sam said. “I just hope she understands what we have to do, and why we can’t walk away from it.”

  “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see about that,”

  Miller said, and entered his store.

  Sam and Jubal proceeded to the livery, where Swede brought out Sam’s coyote dun.

  “I wish you’d let me ride with you,” Jubal said as Sam mounted up, “at least part of the way.”

  “I’ll do this alone, Jubal,” Sam said.

  “Why do you have to do it alone?”

  “Because this is what I do, Jube,” Sam said. “This is what I do.”

  Coffin was looking out his window when Sam rode by, heading out of town. He had a feeling he knew where Sam McCall was going. Hell, if he was in McCall’s shoeshe might not have waited this long to confront Lincoln Burkett. Evan McCall’s visit to Burkett hadn’t accomplished anything. Maybe Sam McCall’s visit would stir things up some.

  Coffin decided maybe he’d take himself a little ride as well.

  As Sam rode up to Burkett’s house he attracted the attention of the men at the corral, the men in front of the barn, and a couple of men who were on the porch.

  One of the men on the porch was Chuck Conners.

  When he spotted Sam McCall riding up he turned away from the man he was talking to and descended the steps to wait for him.

  “Don’t bother dismounting, McCall,” Conners said.

  “You ain’t wanted here.”

  “I want to talk to Burkett.”

  “He don’t want to talk to you.”

  “Why don’t you let him make up his own mind about that?”

  “I’m the foreman around here,” Conners said. “I make most of the decisions around here.”

  “Not this one.”

  “Now look—”

  “Are you prepared to keep me from seein’ your boss, Conners?”

  “I am.”

  “Well then, get to it.”

  “What?”

  “I said get to it,” Sam said. “Go for your gun.”

  There were eight or ten men watching the proceedings now, and Conners’ eyes flicked right and left, taking in that fact.

  “Now wait—” he said.

  “You think you can stop me?” Sam asked. “But, you see, I intend to see your boss, and—”

  “I—I got enough men here to stop you.”

  Sam took a moment to look around. Most of the men who were watching were wearing sidearms.

  “You sure do have enough’this time.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean you’ve tried sendin’ seven men after me, and then eight. Now you’ve got about eleven, countin’ yourself. Maybe you’ll do it this time, but there’s one thing you should know.”

  “What’s that?”

  “If I only get off one shot, it’ll go right into your brain. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred that’s a fatal shot. How do you feel about those odds, Conners?”

  Chuck Conners stared at Sam McCall, then looked around at his men, who were waiting for him to call the play.

  “Come on, Conners,” Sam said. “Make a play or tell your boss I’m here.”

  There was a tense moment while Conners weighed his options, but he was saved from having to make the final decision.

  “He doesn’t have to tell me you’re here, McCall,” Lincoln Burkett said. He was standing in the open front doorway. “I can see that for myself.”

  “You willin’ to talk to me, Burkett, or are you gonna call the play here?”

  “Oh, I’ll call the play, all right, McCall,” Burkett said, “when the time comes. I think you’ve killed quite enough of my men. Chuck, let him by.”

  “But boss—”

  “Let him come in. I want to talk to him.”

  Sam dismounted and handed his reins to a startled manstanding nearby. He brushed past Conners and climbed the steps. He heard Conners beginning to climb the steps behind him.

  “Not you, Chuck,” Burkett said. “I’ll see Mr. McCall alone.”

  “Boss, I don’t think—”

  “Don’t worry,” Burkett said as Sam McCall reached him, “I’ll be safe enough, won’t I, McCall?”

  “That depends on you, Burkett,” Sam said, and slipped past him into the house.

  Sam knew the way to Burkett’s office. Evan had told him which room it was. He was waiting there for Burkett, already sitting in front of the man’s desk.

  “I see you’ve made yourself at home,” Burkett said, moving around to the other side of his desk. “Can I offer you a drink?”

  “No.”

  “Let’s get to it, then,” Burkett said. “Why are you here?”

  “Like you say,” Sam said, “I’ve killed enough of your men. I think it’s time for you to try and kill me yourself.”

  Burkett laughed.

  “Why would I want to do that?”

  “Either you kill me,” Sam said, “or tell me what happened to my parents.”

  “I intend to do neither,” Burkett said. “Actually, I won’t do the first, and I can’t do the second because I know nothing about it.”

  “That’s bull.”

  “That might be what you think,” Burkett said. “I’ll tell you the truth, the sheriff questioned me after your parents were found.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “Well, we had only made the deal for his ranch a month before. I guess the sheriff felt that was sufficient—”

  “That’s more bull,” Sam said, interrupting him. “You own the sheriff, just as sure as you own the whorehouse and whatever other businesses you own.”

  “Who told you I own the whorehouse?”

  Sam smiled.

  “It’s a badly kept secret, Burkett,” Sam said, “but never mind. I think you should know I’ve sent for a federal marshal.”

  “You…have?” Burkett’s face betrayed him for just an instant. He didn’t like the idea of a federal marshal poking his nose in his business. “When will he be arriving?”

  “Soon,” Sam said, “very soon.”

  “And what do you expect him to accomplish?”

  “Once he looks at the evidence I’ve put together, I expect him to arrest the killers of my parents.”

  “Evidence?”

  Sam stood up.

  “I haven’t been here all this time without accomplishing something, Burkett.”

  “And your brothers?”

  “They don’t know what I have,” Sam said. “I’m tryin’ to protect them.”

  “That’s admirable,” Burkett said. “A man should take care of his family.”

  “I’m glad you feel that way, Burkett,” Sam said, moving toward the door, “because that’s exactly what I’ve been trying to do all along—and what I’ll continue to do. Uh, before I go, are you sure you wouldn’t like to try for that gun in your desk?”

  Burkett’s eyes momentarily flitted to the desk drawer where he kept his gun.

  “Uh, no, I don’t think so.”

  “That’s a pity,” Sam said, and left.

  Outside he found that the men who had gathered to watch him and Conners face off had not yet dispersed.

  Even Conners was still there. The man he’d given his horse to was still holding the reins, and he took them back.

  “Thank you.”

  “Did you accomplish anything?” Conners asked.

  From astride his horse Sam looked down at the man and said, “I got done what I came to get done. Ask your boss about it. He’ll tell you. In fact, I think he wants to see you.�
��

  Sam wheeled his horse around and rode away from the house, leaving behind a bunch of puzzled men and one very confused foreman.

  “I was going to send for you,” Burkett said when Conners entered.

  “McCall said you wanted to see me.”

  “He did, eh?”

  “Uh, do you want to—”

  “Yes, yes, of course I do,” Burkett said. “Close the damned door.”

  Conners did so and moved closer to the desk.

  “What did he say?”

  “He said he had evidence.”

  “He can’t.”

  “I know,” Burkett said, “but he also said he’s sent for a federal marshal.”

  “That must be what he was doing in the telegraph office that day.”

  “If I ever find out who was behind that…” Burkett trailed off. “The man has killed eight of my men, Chuck…eight! And now he’s got federal law coming in.”

  “What do you want done?”

  Burkett took a long moment to light a cigar to his satisfaction. He was regarding the glowing tip when he finally said, “Get Coffin.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Sam rode back to town and left his horse with the Swede at the livery.

  During the ride back he was very alert. There was no telling what Burkett would do. Sam hoped to push the man into taking some kind of obvious action, but he didn’t really expect it to be immediate action. Nevertheless he remained alert for another possible ambush.

  As he approached the town he found himself wishing he could just by pass it and keep on going. He had never liked Vengeance Creek. It had always represented a prison for him, a place he thought he would never escape from if he didn’t leave early. That was why he’d left in the first place. He had always regarded Vengeance Creek as a small town that would never grow up, and while he was here he had seen nothing to change his mind. Maybe a lot of people felt that way. Maybe that was why most of them accepted Lincoln Burkett as a savior, and not a conqueror.

  Now he was back here and once again he felt imprisoned. There was no way he and his brothers could leave until they found out the truth, but who knew when that would happen—or if? What if they never found out the truth? Would he never be able to leave?

  As he rode down the main street to the livery he felt as if the sides of the street were closing in on him, as if everyone on the street was watching—and most of them were. He and Coffin in the same place would have raised the tension of any town, and Vengeance Creek was nodifferent. They were waiting for what they felt was an inevitable explosion.

  After leaving the horse at the livery he started back to the Miller house, but then he made a detour to the saloon. Over a beer he thought about Coffin and about the townspeople of Vengeance Creek. If the town was his prison, then the town’s people were his jailers. As curious as he himself was about Coffin and himself, he would have liked to leave the people hanging, deprive them of their entertainment. He wondered if he and Coffin could avoid a showdown.

  He thought about Serena, but quickly dispelled her from his thoughts. Long ago he had resigned himself to the fact that there was no woman in his future. A woman would want him to settle down and, convinced as he was that he would someday die a violent death, it would not be fair to a woman to ask her to marry him, anyway. Serena and Evan made a nice couple, but he didn’t think his brother would stay in Vengeance Creek any more than he would when this was all over.

  Maybe Jubal…

  Jubal still had time to make a life for himself. He was still young enough to change the direction his life was taking. Serena was only four years older than he, so maybe he could make his future here.

  In Vengeance Creek?

  Sam shook his head, finished his beer, and left the saloon.

  Coffin hadn’t tailed Sam McCall to the Burkett house. He had known he was going there, so he stayed far enough behind so that McCall wouldn’t sense him there. He was watching from a distance when McCall faced off against Conners and made him back down in front of all his men. He was still there when McCall came back out after talkingwith Burkett. Coffin watched as Sam rode away, back to town, and then he approached the ranch.

  He was riding up to the house when Chuck Conners came out of the house. Conners saw him and stopped short.

  “Looking for me?” Coffin asked.

  “How did you know?” Conners said. “I was just about to send someone to town to get you.”

  “Well, I’m already here,” Coffin said, dismounting. “I had a feeling Burkett would be wanting me.”

  “Come on inside,” Conners said.

  The foreman called a man over to take Coffin’s horse and then lead the gunmen into the house to Lincoln Burkett’s office.

  “Are you back already?” Burkett asked as Conners entered. A split second later he saw Coffin enter behind the foreman and frowned.

  “What—”

  “He came riding up to the house,” Conners said. “He said he thought you’d be looking for him.”

  “That’s all Conners,” Burkett said, and Conners left.

  Coffin sat in a chair and kept his eyes on Burkett.

  “How did you know?”

  “It was McCall come riding out here? I figured he was going to push the play a little.”

  “Well, he did.”

  “How?”

  “He says he’s got some evidence.”

  “Where would he get evidence?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Then he probably doesn’t have any.”

  Burkett rubbed his jaw and said, “I can’t take that chance. I’ve got too much at stake here.”

  Coffin didn’t know what Burkett had at stake, and he didn’t care. In fact, he didn’t even know what kind of“evidence” they were talking about. None of that had anything to do with him.

  “You want me to take care of McCall?”

  “Can you?” Burkett asked. “I mean, can you take him?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What do you mean, you don’t know?” Burkett said. “I thought you were the best.”

  “Maybe I am,” Coffin said, “and maybe he is. That’s what we’re gonna find out.”

  “And what happens if he kills you?” Burkett asked.

  “What do I do after that?”

  “There are other men with other guns, Burkett,” Coffin said. “Somewhere there’s a man who can take McCall if I don’t. You’ll just have to keep looking.”

  Coffin started for the door.

  “When will you do it?”

  “When the opportunity presents itself,” Coffin said. He turned at the door and looked at his employer. “When the time is right.”

  “And when will that be?”

  “You’ll know about it when it happens.”

  “But I want to watch!” Burkett shouted as Coffin started down the hall.

  “I don’t need an audience!” Coffin called back, and kept walking.

  Burkett sat back in his chair and fretted. He had sent for Coffin with the understanding that he was the best man for this job. If McCall killed him, who else could do it?

  He heard someone else in the outside hall and left the office to see who it was. He was just in time to see his son heading for the front door.

  “John!”

  John Burkett stopped, his shoulders slumped.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To town,” John replied without turning.

  “I don’t think that’s wise.”

  “Why not?”

  “It might not be safe.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “Take someone with you, then.”

  John opened the door and said, “I’ll be fine, Pa.”

  John Burkett’s ego was still stinging from the last time he had taken someone to town with him. They had seen him humiliated.

  “John, you’re not intending to go after McCall, are you?”

  John Burkett turned and looked at his father.

 
; “Not Sam McCall, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he said, “but I want the other one, the one they call Jubal.”

  “Well, don’t do anything rash,” Lincoln Burkett said. “Wait until after…”

  “After what?”

  Burkett didn’t answer.

  John Burkett took his hand off the doorknob. He left the door open but stepped back into the entry hall.

  “Have you done it?” he asked. “Have you sent Coffin after Sam McCall?”

  Lincoln Burkett hesitated a moment, then said, “Yes.”

  “Well, it’s about time,” John Burkett said. “When’s he going to do it?”

  “Soon.”

  “Today?”

  “He didn’t say.”

  “Well, hell, I wanna be there when he does it,” the younger Burkett said. “That might be the perfect time for me to take out the other one, Jubal.”

  “And what about the middle one?” the father asked. “Evan?”

  “He’s a gambler, not a gunman,” the son said. “I’m not worried about him.”

  “He stopped you once.”

  “He had the drop on me, Pa,” John Burkett said. “That won’t happen again.”

  “John—” Burkett said, but this time his son walked out and closed the door behind him.

  Burkett decided to give his son a head start and then have Conners send some men after him. None of this would be worth the effort if John got killed. He was trying to build a future here for his only son. If the boy would only realize that…

  When Sam reached the Miller house no one answered the door. He found each of his brothers in their hotel rooms, which was just as well. He didn’t want Serena to hear about his conversation with Burkett.

  He found Evan first, and then they went to Jubal’s room. They stayed there while he told his story.

  “I don’t know that I like this, Sam,” Evan said. “It’s not as if you weren’t a big enough target already, but you just about painted a bull’s-eye on your back this time.”

  “Well,” he said, “with the two of you to watch my back, I haven’t got much to worry about, have I?”

  “That’s for sure,” Jubal said enthusiastically. “You can count on us to watch your back, Sam.”

  “Thanks, Jube.” Sam frowned then. “Aren’t one of you supposed to be with Serena?”

  “She’s at her father’s store, helping out,” Evan said. “I’m supposed to meet her there soon.”