Texas Iron (15 page)

Jubal said.

“There are no floorboards,” Evan said. “Let’s try thedrawers, and under the tables. Check and see if there are any loose stones
on the fireplace.”

“I’ll check outside,” Jubal said.

Serena walked around, looking in things like sugar bowls and teapots.

Sam and Evan started at the same point and worked their way around in opposite directions. When they came face to face they
both had the same thing to report.

“Nothin’,” Sam said.

They looked over at Serena, who shrugged and shook her head.

“I’ll check outside with Jubal,” Evan said.

When they were alone Serena said, “Maybe we’re looking in the wrong places.”

“We’re lookin’ anywhere a piece of paper could be hidden,” Sam said, “and that’s anywhere.”

Sam walked about studying the hard-packed dirt floor, checking to see if there was anyplace where something might have been
buried. He was finished when Evan and Jubal came back in.

“Nothing outside.”

Sam looked up at the ceiling and said, “Just for the sake of being thorough we’d better check the roof.”

“Who’s going to go up on the roof?” Evan asked.

“Well, I can’t,” Sam said. “I’ve been shot in the leg, remember?” Evan looked at Jubal.

“Why me?”

“Because you’re the youngest.”

“What does that mean?”

“Your balance is better,” Evan said. “You’re the least likely to fall off.”

“Oh, never mind all this,” Serena said. “I’ll go up on the roof. Jubal, help me up.”

The roof was low, and it took only a boost from Jubal to get Serena up.

“Check the chimney,” Sam said. “There might be a loose stone.”

They waited while Serena checked the roof, and then when she was ready to come down both Evan and Jubal reached up for her
and helped her.

“Nothing?” Evan asked.

“Nothing.”

“We’ll have to check that area you said Pa liked to hunt,” Jubal said.

“Yes, but we’ll have to do it tomorrow,” Evan said. “It’ll be dark soon.”

“If you men want to eat,” Serena said, “we’ll have to get back so I can cook.”

“Why don’t we go somewhere and eat?” Evan suggested.

“You have something against my cooking?” Serena asked.

“Of course not,” Evan said. “I just thought you could use a break.”

“Well,” Serena said, “it doesn’t sound like a completely bad idea. Where shall we go?”

“Is there anyplace decent to eat?” Evan asked.

“Well,” she said, thoughtfully, “there is one place.”

“The hotel?” Jubal asked.

“Oh, no,” Serena said, making a face, “certainly not. There’s a small café run by a friend of mine.”

“Well, then,” Sam said, “let’s get back to town.”

He didn’t want to let on how weak he felt, or how much his thigh was aching. When they got back to town he’d beg off from
dinner. He had no appetite.

No appetite for anything but revenge. His wound, and the sickly feeling that accompanied it, could not extinguish that.

Chapter Sixteen

Normally a patient man, Coffin was becoming impatient. A man could have just so much food, drink, gambling and women—even
when they were all free.

Lincoln Burkett had given Coffin an unlimited line of credit wherever he went in town. Coffin, to the surprise of the merchants
involved, did not abuse the privilege. It was plain to see what kind of man Coffin was, and the townspeople moved out of his
way when he walked down the street, much the way they moved for Sam McCall. McCall, however, had come from Vengeance Creek,
and they had known his parents. Coffin was a stranger, and no one knew what to expect from him.

They certainly didn’t expect what they got.

When he ate in the hotel dining room or a restaurant, he was courteous and quiet. When he drank in the saloon he did so alone,
and when he played cards he did so quietly and efficiently.

When he went to the whorehouse he treated the girls well, and though he did not have to pay he always gave them something.

In the span of a few days Coffin actually had some of the people of Vengeance Creek liking him.

Now he was growing impatient. He never liked staying in one place too long.

Coffin was having dinner in the cafe when Evan, Jubal, and Serena entered. Dude Miller had opted to stay home, and as he had
planned, Sam had begged off and gone tohis hotel room. Miller had offered him a room at the house, but Sam had refused. If
some of Burkett’s men came for him again—which seemed more likely every minute—he didn’t want Dude Miller or Serena caught
in the crossfire.

In the morning, if he felt strong enough, Sam planned on riding out to see Lincoln Burkett. If the man really wanted him dead,
he’d give him the chance to do it himself. As they entered the café Jubal saw Coffin, who nodded to him.

After they were seated Serena asked, “Who is that?”

“That’s Coffin.”

“Lincoln Burkett’s hired gun?” she asked. “Eating here?”

“Where would you have him eat?” Evan asked.

“I don’t know…” Serena said. “With his reputation you’d think he wouldn’t want to eat with…with…”

“Decent people?” Evan asked.

“I was going to say that,” she admitted.

“What about Sam?” Evan asked. “Should he be allowed to eat here?”

“That’s different.”

“Why? He has a reputation.”

“But I know Sam,” Serena said. “I know he’s not like that.”

“Maybe if you knew Coffin you’d decide that he wasn’t like his reputation, either.”

“I don’t understand you,” Serena said. “Isn’t he here to kill Sam?”

“We don’t know why he’s here,” Evan said. “We do know one thing: when Sam was pinned down in that telegraph office, Coffin
helped us.”

Serena looked surprised.

“Why would he do that?”

“Maybe he was just saving Sam for himself,” Evan said.

“Maybe he couldn’t see a man dying that way, at the hands of seven men, all of whom were too cowardly to face him alone.”

Serena compressed her lips and then said, “I don’t think I’ll ever understand men.”

“I reckon that makes us even, Serena,” Jubal said.

“Why don’t we eat?” Evan suggested. “I’m starved.”

Coffin recognized Jubal as Sam McCall’s brother, and the other man was Evan McCall. He hadn’t gotten a good look at either
of them on the street that day, but he had seen Jubal in the saloon with Sam McCall the day they had talked, and he’d seen
Evan out at Burkett’s place.

Coffin wondered idly if Sam’s ability with a gun was a family trait.

After he finished his dinner Coffin walked over to the table where Evan, Jubal, and Serena were still eating. He was holding
his hat in his hand.

“Hello, boy,” he said to Jubal.

“The name’s Jubal.”

“Sure, Jubal,” Coffin said. “I didn’t mean any offense.”

“None taken, Coffin,” Evan said. “Is there some reason why you came over here?”

“As a matter of fact, there is,” Coffin said, switching his gaze to Serena. “I came to pay my respects to the lady. Ma’am,
I do believe you’re the prettiest woman I’ve seen in a long time. I just wanted to tell you that.”

Serena stared at Coffin for a few moments and then said, “Thank you.”

“Are you Sam’s woman?” Coffin asked.

“Why do you want to know that?” Evan asked.

Coffin smiled, and Serena noticed that the smile touched his lips, but not his eyes. His cold gray eyes made her shiver inside.

“Just curious, that’s all.”

“Well,” Evan said, “if you have to know, she’s Jubal’s girl.”

“Jubal, eh?”

Both Jubal and Serena gave Evan quick looks and then tried to mask them.

“Lucky lad,” Coffin said, then added, “Oops, sorry.

That’s just like calling you ‘kid,—isn’t it?”

Jubal didn’t answer.

“Well,” Coffin said, “I’ll be on my way and allow you to finish your meal. Ma’am?”

He put on his hat and walked out. Serena couldn’t keep herself from staring at his gun as he went out.

“Is he very good with his gun?” she asked.

“That’s what they say,” Evan said.

“Better than Sam?”

“There’s only one way we’ll ever find that out” Jubal said, and Evan gave him a warning look.

“Is that going to happen?” Serena asked.

Neither Evan nor Jubal answered her this time.

“Of course,” she said, answering her own question, “of course it will. If you keep pursuing Lincoln Burkett, it will happen.
And why shouldn’t it?”

“Serena—” Evan said, but she wasn’t listening.

“The whole town knows they’re both here, and they want to see it. If it happens, it will put this town on the map, won’t it?”

“Serena—” Jubal said, but he didn’t have any luck either.

“I’ll bet you two are curious about it, too. I’ll bet they’re curious about it themselves. I’m probably the only one who doesn’t
want to see it happen.”

“Serena!” This time they tried it together and managed to get her attention.

“What?”

“Eat your dinner,” Evan said, “and stop worrying about things you have no control over.”

She looked down at her plate and pushed it away.

“I’ve lost my appetite.”

“Well, I haven’t,” Evan said. “It may not be as good as your cooking, but it’ll do.”

Evan started to eat, frowning at Jubal until he started as well.

As Coffin was approaching the hotel he stopped to light a cigarette. He knew that all of the McCall brothers had rooms in
the hotel, and since the hotel only had two floors there was a fifty-fifty chance that Sam McCall’s room was on the same floor
as his.

In the past Coffin had drawn his gun only for money. Now, however, he was starting to wonder if he could avoid doing it just
out of curiosity. He was itching to try McCall.

He dropped the cigarette to the ground and stubbed it out deliberately. He’d give Burkett a little more time to do what he
had to do, and then Coffin was just going to have to do what
he
had to do.

Sam McCall was looking out the window. He saw Coffin pause for a cigarette, staring at the hotel. The man was probably thinking
the same thing. They couldn’t be more than some feet apart when they were both in their rooms.

Sooner or later they’d have to close the distance between them, whether it was because Coffin was working for Burkett, or
simply because it was inevitable.

Sam had to admit to a lingering curiosity about Coffin.

He had to admit to it, but he didn’t have to give in to it.

He turned and limped back to bed.

Evan walked Serena home while Jubal went to the saloon, where Evan would meet him later.

They walked at a leisurely pace, in silence for most of the way. As they approached the house Serena stopped.

“What is it?” Evan asked.

“Evan, why don’t you and your brothers just leave town? Forget all about this place.”

“We will,” Evan said.

“After you find out who killed your parents.”

“That’s right.”

“Couldn’t the official verdict be right?”

“You don’t believe that any more than we do, Serena.

What’s your point?”

She hesitated a moment and then blurted out, “I don’t know that finding out who killed them is worth being killed yourselves.”

“Take a moment to think about that, Serena,” Evan said. “What if it was your father?”

“I see your point.”

“We appreciate your concern, we really do…and your help. If you’d rather just back away from this whole thing we’d understand.
In fact, we’d like for you to do just that—”

“No,” she said, shaking her head, “I’m here to help you, when you need me—and my father feels the same way. All right?”

“Yes,” Evan said, “all right. Let’s get you home, now, shall we?”

They walked to the door, where she inserted her key and opened it.

“See you tomorrow,” she said, turning to him.

On impulse Evan bent and kissed her on the mouth.

She didn’t seem surprised, but she didn’t particularly participate, either.

Evan straightened and looked at her. He was about to apologize for taking the liberty when she stretched and kissed him quickly
on the mouth.

“Good night,” she said, and slipped inside.

Jubal was standing at the bar holding a beer when he saw John Burkett enter with three men. The tallest of the three was Chuck
Conners, Burkett’s foreman.

Jubal turned his back to the room. He was certain that Conners would know who he was. As it turned out, he hadn’t turned his
back soon enough, and John Burkett had seen him.

“My friend,” Burkett called. Jubal tried to ignore him but in the mirror he could see Burkett crossing the room toward him.
Conners and the other two men followed.

“Chuck, I want you to meet the hombre who helped me out at Louise’s. Hey,” John Burkett said, touching Jubal’s shoulder, “I
didn’t even get your name.”

As Jubal turned Chuck Conners said, “I can tell you what his name is.”

“How would you—”

“His name is McCall,” Conners said. “Jubal McCall.”

“McCall?” John said, staring at Jubal.

“Sam McCall’s brother.”

John looked at Conners, then turned to Jubal and said, “Why, you—what were you trying to do? Get into my confidence?”

Jubal smiled and said, “No harm done, friend. I did keep you from getting your head knocked off.”

“Now let’s see if you can do the same for yourself,” John Burkett said. “Grab him!”

Jubal threw his beer into the face of one man andpushed another away. Conners, however, was bigger and stronger. He got behind
Jubal and pinned his arms back.

“Hold him, Chuck,” Burkett said. He threw a punch that landed solidly in Jubal’s belly. He followed that one up with a blow
to the face, bringing blood from Jubal’s lip.

“Can we get in on the fun?” one of the other men asked. His face was dripping with beer.

“Be my guest,” Burkett said.

The other two men positioned themselves in front of Jubal. Apparently they were going to work on him at the same time.

“Hey—” the bartender said.

“You stay out of it!” Burkett barked at the man, who subsided. As far as he was concerned, he had done all he could.

“You’re gonna feel this all the way down to your toes, boy,” the man with beer on his face said.

Both men drew back their fists, and at that moment the man who was slumped in Conner’s hands came to life. He backed up, pinning
Conners to the bar, then lifted both feet and kicked out at the two men. He caught both of them in the chest, driving them
backward.

“You son-of-a-bitch!” cried John Burkett. He went to draw his gun, but the move was arrested by a loud voice.

“I wouldn’t do that, Burkett!” It was Evan McCall.

Burkett looked over and saw Evan standing just inside the batwing doors, gun in hand. Men who were sitting in the line of
fire scrambled for safety.

“Tell your friend to let my brother go.”

“There are four of us, McCall, and only two of you,” John Burkett said.

“That may be, Johnny boy, but I’ll make sure I kill you first.” Evan paused a moment to let that sink in and then said, “The
next move is up to you.”

Conners was still holding on to Jubal. The other twomen had regained their balance and were watching John Burkett, waiting
for him to move.

“John!” Conners said.

“What?”

“This isn’t the time or the place,” the foreman said. He released Jubal’s shoulders. “Let’s go.”

“Want a drink.”

“We’ll get one someplace else.”

John Burkett was still staring across the room at Evan, his shoulders high with tension.

“John!” Conners said, “Let’s go.” He started for the door, then turned and looked at the other two men. “Let’s go, boys!”

The two men looked at Burkett one more time, then shrugged and followed Conners.

“A wise move, Conners,” Evan said.

“Your time will come, McCall,” Conners said to Evan. “You and your brothers.”

“Better get junior out of here before he does something rash.”

“If he was going to do it, he would have done it by now,” Conners said. “Just between you and me, I don’t think he’s got the
cojones
for it.” He walked out, followed closely by the other two men.

That left John Burkett in the room alone to face Evan and Jubal, and he was starting to realize that. His eyes suddenly acquired
a hunted look.

“Come on, John,” Jubal said, “Forget it. I’ll buy you a drink.”

Burkett looked at Jubal and said, “Keep your damned drink. The next time you get in my way, nobody’ll stop me. I’ll kill you.”

Jubal picked up his beer from the bar and raised the glass to Burkett, who stormed across the room past Evan, and then out.

Evan holstered his gun and joined his brother at the bar.

“Can’t leave you alone for a minute, can I?” he said, leaning his elbows against the bar so he could continue to watch the
room. Now that it was clear there would be no shooting, men were reclaiming their seats and going back to what they were doing.
Evan, though, cautiously continued to survey the room.

Jubal wiped the blood from his lip with the back of his hand and said to the bartender, “Two more beers.” He looked at his
brother and said, “You got here just in time.”