The Son of Earp Box Set - Books 1-3

by Chuck Buda

  “I dropped out because I was “too good” for school. So my old man punished me for dropping out. He put me to work on his farm and he gave me the worst jobs imaginable. Cleaning out the chicken coops. Digging water wells. Working the mules with the cultivator. Hard labor for a little boy.”

  “Oh my. That’s terrible.”

  “Not completely. It taught me the value of hard work. And it gave me a reason to search for something better. I decided at a young age that I wanted to be on my own. Not taking orders from some grumpy old guy.”

  Eleanor laughed and Ed grinned at her. He placed the last item in the box and carried it to the counter. As he tallied up the items, Eleanor glanced out the window at the quieting street activity.

  “I guess everyone is heading home for the day.”

  “Yeah. Well, those of us fortunate enough to be heading home.”

  Eleanor looked at Ed with an expression of confusion. He noticed as he finished scrawling on the ledger. “You know what I mean. Everyone except Sheriff Morgan and James.”

  She continued to screw up her face as she struggled to understand what Ed was talking about.

  “I’m sorry. I thought you knew they were going to chase down the haunted gunslinger.”

  “Oh, yes. Well, I mean, I knew they were going to do it. I didn’t realize it would be so soon.”

  “Yep. They left earlier today. Came in here for some supplies and took off for the old Doddy place.”

  “I see.” Eleanor placed her hand against her cheek in dismay. She couldn’t believe that James left without saying goodbye. What if something awful happened to him? And she never got a chance to see him one last time? She worried that the last time they saw each other it was under stressful circumstances. The little fight they had would be the last memory she would have of James.

  “Is something wrong, Miss Lark?”

  Eleanor was lost in thought but snapped back to the present. “Um, no. I just thought of something that I didn’t do.”

  “Well, there’s always tomorrow, right?”

  She nodded without confidence. There was always tomorrow for some things. But not for telling someone that you care about them. Not for letting them know that you…love them? Eleanor was surprised at the conclusion her train of thought had arrived at. Did she love James? She hardly knew him. Yes, she thought he was handsome. And she enjoyed being around him. He was so nice and courteous. But love? Her cheeks reddened.

  “Miss Lark?”

  “What?”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, why do you ask?” Her breath came out in gasps.

  “You just looked like you drifted off somewhere.”

  “Oh.” She tried to recover. “I just realized something else. Um, something else I forgot to do. I’m sorry, Mr. Miller.” She noticed him tilting his head at her in correction. “Sorry. Ed.”

  Mr. Miller smiled at her and wished her a good evening. He handed her the small box of sundries and she left the store. Ed locked the door behind her and waved through the window. She smiled back and stepped into the street with her goods.

  Eleanor started to cry.

  She can’t believe that she had fallen in love with James. Since she was a little girl, she had always dreamed of marrying a man of position. A ranked officer in the army or a wealthy landowner. Not a stock boy. And he was younger than her. What would people say about the spinster school teacher who found love in a younger man? She was only older by a handful of years but it would still be considered scandalous. Besides, James didn’t feel the same way towards her. She thought he seemed to like her, too. But the way things left off when Sarah threw her out of the room didn’t support that notion. It was too abrupt and James hadn’t run after her. Nor had he bothered to check in with her before he went on a dangerous trip.

  Her heart sank. The tears flowed quicker as she hurried her pace to get home. She hoped nobody would find her in such a state. It was bad enough that she was crushed. Then to have to explain herself or worse, lie to cover up her true emotions would be terrible.

  She cried harder as her pace quickened. The last time she saw James he wore a scowl and he was upset. Eleanor didn’t want to go on living if James died tonight without her telling him how she felt. Her lost love trickled down her cheeks.

  Chapter 40

  Sheriff Morgan belched and waved a hand past his own face. James smiled at the funny gesture. It made him think of Carson. Sometimes when they ate together they would burp out loud and then blow it into each other’s face. The goal was to completely sicken the other with sound and smell. Carson usually doubled over with deep belly laughs when James did it. He missed Carson badly.

  They ate in silence as the flames danced between them. James tried to squeeze Carson out of his mind. But it was no use. He kept seeing Carson bumping into him from behind or slapping down a winning hand of cards. And flying backwards after being shot. James’ stomach twisted with the memory.

  “You’re awfully quiet.” The Sheriff extended another chunk of bread to James.

  James shrugged and took the bread. He broke off a piece and chewed it as he studied the flames. “You ever regret something so bad it makes your stomach hurt?”

  The Sheriff stopped chewing while he stared at James. “Are you serious?”

  James reddened. He felt foolish for opening up to this tough man about his feelings.

  “Only on days that end in ‘Y’.”

  James furrowed his brow and then figured out the joke. He laughed and Sheriff Morgan joined in. Suddenly, James felt more at ease.

  “Why do you think I’m out here with you? It ain’t yer conversational skills.”

  “Thank you.”

  The Sheriff laughed again.

  “I just…I just want to take care of Carson. Except I make things more difficult for him.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, he wants to go everywhere I go and do everything I do. But the things I do ain’t safe for a boy like him.”

  “What do you mean, a boy like him?”

  “You know…” James let the response drift without finishing it.

  “The pastor says that God only gives us what we can handle. Do you believe that, James?”

  “I guess so. I haven’t been to services in a while.”

  “Well if you believe that God only gives us as much as we can handle, then don’t you think that Carson is doing okay?”

  James looked up at Sheriff Morgan. “I never thought of it like that.”

  “Time to think of it like that then, son. Carson took two slugs and he is on the mend. I think that means God feels that boy can handle a lot more than you give him credit for.”

  James watched the flames. He realized Sheriff Morgan was right. All this time he worried about protecting Carson from the world around him. But Carson was strong enough to take care of himself. Well, in most cases. He was slower than many others but it never SLOWED him down from wanting the same life as James. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen it until now. James smiled.

  “So what do you regret? Everyday by the sounds of it?” James wanted to shift the conversation away from himself.

  Sheriff Morgan tossed the last morsel of bread into the fire and wiped his hands down his pants. He looked at the sky while he finished chewing what was left in his mouth. “This.”

  James screwed up his face. “Sitting under the stars?”

  “No. This. This mission. What happened to Doddy and his kin.”

  “It wasn’t your fault though.”

  “Wasn’t it? I killed Doddy with my own hands. And now look what he’s done to our town and all the good people.” Sheriff Morgan lowered his head.

  “But the men burned his home and killed his family. They did all this.” James opened his arms to indicate the rubble around them.

  “Yeah, well I could have stopped things sooner. But I didn’t.”

  Both men watched the flames flicker and pop. Silence filled the air where the critters paused in the
ir cacophony.

  “I should have done something sooner. I knew it was heading down the wrong path. But I kept my mouth shut. I played along by not standing up for what I believed in. I let Doddy down. And I let myself down.”

  James wanted to say something else to convince Sheriff Morgan that it wasn’t his fault. But the Sheriff didn’t give him a chance.

  “That little girl was a lot like your brother, Carson. She was very…special.” The words followed some sparks that fizzled to the night sky. “She was an angel in a dress. The sweetest creature you could ever meet. People knew she was not like the rest of us. That’s one of the reasons Doddy brought her out here.”

  James blinked as he listened to this fascinating new information.

  “Sally drew those pictures in that book, you know. She could barely speak but she had the Lord’s voice in her fingertips.”

  James was stunned that the little six-year old had created the amazing art. He figured it was Martha or Doddy who did it.

  “Real special kid. And to see her burnt up like a slab of meat…not a day goes by where I don’t see her laying there in the pile…it wasn’t right for me to keep quiet for my job…that little, innocent child died because of me.”

  James heard the crack in the Sheriff’s voice. He struggled to confess his involvement to James. He pitied the Sheriff as much as he did the gunslinger and his family. James thought to himself that he always believed evil came from evil people. After Crouching Bear and the gunslinger, James was finding it more difficult to define evil. And where it came from.

  “Reckon I’ll answer for my sins sooner or later.”

  “I think you’ll handle what you’ve been given.” James tried to make the Sheriff feel better.

  Sheriff Morgan looked at James. He saw the tears in his eyes. The Sheriff nodded and threw some more wood on the fire. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  They spent the next few hours in silence. The canopy of stars brought the heavens within reach and James thought about their purpose. He wondered if he would get a chance to see Carson again. If he did, he promised himself that he would include Carson as an equal instead of protecting him for being slow. He wished he could see Carson’s face when he told him how things would be different.

  Chapter 41

  The road to the farm was very difficult for Sarah and Carson. The darkness encroached upon their trail, making the landmarks hard to recognize. They plodded on under the stars at a slow pace. Two riders on one horse was uncomfortable at best. Adding Carson’s bandaged upper body only contributed to the discomfort.

  After Sarah left Carson’s bedside, she quietly found a regular customer at the brothel who was willing to lend her a horse. She was able to get Ginger to cover for her as Madam for the evening while she “took care of an important family matter.” The girls knew what had happened to Carson. Hell, everyone in town knew what happened so it was easy enough to find an excuse to get out of working.

  Sarah packed a small sack of garments and some jerky and water. Then she waited for night to fall so she could sneak Carson out the back door of the hospital. Sarah was relieved that it had been easier than she had thought. Since most of the patients slept at night, the nursing staff decreased during the evening hours. Apparently, the night nurse on duty spent most of her shift occupying the desk in the front of the building while the patients slept. So Sarah watched through the windows until her opportunity arose. She quietly opened the back door and carried Carson out to the awaiting horse.

  She couldn’t believe how heavy Carson had been. The boy looked so frail and slight, even when he was fully healthy. But he felt like a huge sack of flour. Sarah managed to hoist Carson upon the horse without too many complaints, even when his injured arm brushed the pommel. Then she hopped on behind him and kept Carson inside her arms for extra protection. It was custom for a lady to ride side-saddle with both legs on the same side, but Sarah cussed under her breath that she wasn’t a lady like that “in times like these.” She straddled the horse and rode with the front of her dress bunched up against her belly.

  The trail was mostly flat. Once in awhile large rocks littered the path, forcing them to go slowly and avoid being thrown. Sarah made sure to stop every ten or fifteen minutes to check on Carson and readjust their seating arrangement. She utilized the breaks to reconfirm their bearings as well. She hadn’t traveled like this at night in years. She forgot how treacherous and scary it was. The fear of going off in the wrong direction. The howls of coyotes and other wild beasts startling her. Plus a general sense of unease, as if dangerous men were out there, somewhere, watching them and waiting to ambush them. Sarah knew these fears were mostly unfounded. She chalked it up to town living and becoming accustomed to lots of people and civilized noises.

  “I have to pee.”

  Sarah pulled the reins back and the horse stopped. She slid down and helped Carson dismount. Once again his arm brushed the pommel and he whined about the pain. Sarah apologized and helped him take a few steps off the trail to relieve himself. As Carson’s pee pattered upon the rocks and sand, Sarah realized she could use a break too. She rounded the other side of the horse, lifted her dress up and squatted down over the trail. A steady stream of urine flowed and she sighed with relief. Before she could finish, she heard Carson making his way slowly back in her direction.

  “Hold on, Carson. I’ll be right there.” She finished up and met Carson who stood groggily in the dark. “You want something to eat before we get going again?”

  “Uh-uh.” Carson yawned out loud and Sarah began lifting him back onto the horse. She got him situated and then climbed up. As soon as she sat against him, Sarah felt Carson lean back into her breasts. His head angled to the side like he was readying for sleep. She smiled at the wonderful feeling of a young child nuzzling up to her. She thought about how many years had gone by since James had done this with her. She missed it greatly. Sarah chose to enjoy the affectionate comfort of Carson while she had it. She kissed his greasy hair and clucked to get the horse moving again.

  Sarah began to feel like this was the right thing to do. She hated herself for allowing Carson to get to her. She felt an overpowering desire to protect Carson as if he were her own child. For all intents, he was her child now. But she gave into his strong demands and took him away from the hospital. Somewhere deep inside, she was trying to reconcile Carson’s and James’ relationship with each other. And that desire won out.

  Her thoughts trickled back to James and how much he had grown up. She knew the boy was gone, replaced by a man. A man who craved adventure and living in the wild. There was nothing she could do to protect him anymore or deter him from getting himself into trouble. All she could do was advise him. And pray for him. Maybe there would be some consolation in taking care of Carson. He provided her with another focus to feed her motherly instincts.

  “Momma.”

  Carson mumbled as he drifted to sleep. Sarah saddened as he called for her old friend, Minnie. She thought about Carson’s mother for the first time in a while since she died. Tears filled her eyes as she remembered all the times they laughed together, talked about their boys and looked out for each other. Minnie had been like family to Sarah. Which made taking care of Carson that much more important to her.

  “You’re my momma now.”

  Sarah was stunned. She couldn’t believe what Carson just said. He was actually cooing to her, not calling for his birth mother. Sarah’s eyes overflowed with tears and she tried to sniffle quietly so that Carson wouldn’t know she was crying. She kissed his head again and squeezed him into her breasts while she pulled the reins back.

  She was doing the right thing after all. She was bringing her boys together. Where they belonged. With each other.

  “My little boy.” Sarah whispered into Carson’s hair and rode on while he slept in her arms.

  Chapter 42

  “Time to start.” Sheriff Morgan punched James in the shoulder. It was a friendly punch, like two buddies might
give each other as they hung out, swapping stories and jokes. Only, Sheriff Morgan’s strength delivered pain which radiated from James’ shoulder down to his fingertips.

  He yawned with his mouth wide open. Wide enough to swallow the moon. His hand instinctively touched the handle of the six shooter tucked into the back of his belt loop. The feel of the gun had become a source of comfort for James. Whenever he felt scared or apprehensive, he would reach around to touch his gun. And then everything would feel better.

  James looked at the fire and wondered if there was a way he could get out of this. The butterflies in his stomach floated in chaotic orbits, making the bile grow. He swallowed a huge lump in his throat. The time for fighting had arrived.

  Sheriff Morgan retrieved his rifle from the saddle pouch. He cocked the lever to chamber a round. He put the rifle on the ground and took out his sidearm. He opened the cylinder and checked all the rounds, closed it up and spun the cylinder around before re-holstering the gun.

  James watched him prepare his firearms. He glanced down at the family portrait that he pulled from the tattered book. The serious expressions haunted him. And Sally’s laugh still frozen in time, sent shivers down his spine.

  “I’m ready.”

  James nodded over his shoulder at Sheriff Morgan. He placed the faded photograph back in the book and clutched it as if he were afraid to let it drop from his grasp. James took several deep breaths and then began to coax the spirit to reveal itself. A last moment thought ran through his mind that they assumed they would be able to draw the gunslinger out from anywhere. But what if it could only be done back in town? Near the clock tower? Too late now, he thought.

  “Come on out, gunslinger.”

  Nothing but silence answered James.

  “You said you knew how to find me. Remember that? Well, here I am.”

  James realized that all the sounds of nature around them had disappeared. No more crickets, coyotes. Silence. It was eerie. Even the slight breeze had evaporated. The air was still. Just an occasional crackle from the fire.