Read Texas Iron Online

Authors: Robert J. Randisi

Texas Iron (16 page)

Evan smiled and said, “It’s the old McCall timing. We all have it”

Chapter Seventeen

In the morning Evan and Jubal told Sam about the incident as they walked to the Miller house for breakfast.

“Well, it sounds like we won’t be gettin’ any information from Johnny Burkett in the future,” Sam observed.

“I guess not,” Jubal said.

“Evan,” Sam said, “you get the feelin’ that we might all be targets now, instead of just me?”

“From what Jubal told me, John Burkett was just upset that he’d been fooled. I don’t think he and the other men came to town
looking for one of us.”

Sam nodded. He felt the same way, but wanted to see how Evan felt.

“Jube?” He spoke to Jubal as an afterthought, not wanting to offend him by not asking his opinion. He had long since stopped
thinking of his younger brother as just a boy.

“I agree, Sam.”

“Then we’re all agreed.”

When Serena admitted them to the house she frowned at Jubal and said, “What happened to your lip?”

The three brothers exchanged glances and then decided to tell her about the incident.

“Where’s your father?” Sam asked.

“In the kitchen.”

“Let’s go in there.”

Sam didn’t want to have to explain it to her and then repeat it to Dude Miller.

They had been able to smell breakfast cooking as soonas they entered. In the kitchen the smell of frying food was stronger
still, and they all experienced hunger pangs of one degree or another.

“You could have been seriously hurt,” she said to Jubal afterward.

“Evan got there in plenty of time.”

Evan could tell from the look on her face what she was thinking. If not for two kisses, he might have been there before Jubal
could be hurt, at all.

“Everything turned out all right,” Sam said. “Let’s talk about something else.”

“You have something in mind?” Evan asked as they seated themselves at the table.

“Yeah,” Sam said. “I’m goin’ out to see Lincoln Burkett today.”

“What?” Jubal said.

“That’s madness!” Serena said.

“Do you think that’s wise?” Dude Miller asked.

Evan looked at his older brother and said, “Do you want me to go with you?”

“No,” Sam said, “I’ll go alone.”

“Why go at all?” Serena asked.

To the room at large Sam said, “I’m tired of being shot at and chased. If Burkett wants me dead I figure to give him a chance
to do it himself.”

“And if he tries?” Serena asked.

Nobody answered and Jubal finally said, “Sam will defend himself.”

“And if he doesn’t try?”

This time Sam answered.

“Maybe it’ll force his hand.”

“Meaning what?” she asked. “That he’ll finally send Coffin after you?”

“Maybe.”

“That’s what you want, isn’t it?” she said to Sam, angrily.

“You want to stand out there in the street with Coffin and see who’s best!”

“I want to get this over with,” Sam said. “I want to find out once and for all if Burkett killed our folks for what was on
their land.”

“What’s on their land?” Dude Miller asked.

The McCalls had not yet confided to the Millers what they had discovered.

“We think there’s oil on the land, Dude,” Evan said.

“Oil?”

Sam told Miller about what he found, and about the geologist.

“Lord almighty,” Miller said, “no wonder Burkett wanted that land—but your father couldn’t have known, else why would he
have given it up?”

“That’s something we still have to find out,” Sam said.

“And what happens if you find out that Burkett didn’t kill your parents?” Serena asked.

“That would mean someone else did,” Sam said.

“And we’d have to find whoever did,” Evan added.

“And what about Burkett?” Serena asked. “Does that mean you’d forget about him? I mean, if it turns out he didn’t kill them,
and he didn’t force the land from them, would that be the end of things with him?”

The brother exchanged glances and then Evan said, “We don’t know, Serena.”

“Serena,” Dude Miller said, “if Burkett didn’t kill their folks, then they don’t have any business with him.”

“The town—”

“We’d be back where we started, honey,” Miller said.

“Us against Burkett.”

“And we’ll lose,” Serena said, twisting a dish towel in her hands. “I’d rather just pick up and leave than go on fighting,
Papa.”

“Why don’t we wait and see what happens before you decide to leave?” Evan said.

“Sure,” Serena said, throwing her towel down to the floor, “wait until one, or two, or all of you are dead. That’s when it
will be over.”

She stalked out of the room then, leaving the four men speechless.

“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.”

“Oh.”

“Sam,” Evan said, “you know that the biggest threat to you isn’t going to come from behind you.”

“I know that.”

“You mean Coffin?” Jubal asked.

“That’s right,” Evan said.

“We all could take care of Coffin,” Jubal said to Evan.

“We all could bushwack him the way Burkett’s men tried to bushwack Sam.”

“I don’t like bushwackers,” Sam said, “I don’t care who they’re bushwacking.”

“I don’t mean kill him,” Jubal said. “We can just cut him out of action for a while.”

“Jube may have a point here, Sam,” Evan said.

“No,” Sam said, “I’ll take care of Coffin.”

“Or he’ll take care of you,” Evan said.

Sam looked at his brothers and said, “It’s gonna happen sometime.”

“Are you resigned to that?” Evan asked.

“I am.”

Evan stared at Sam for a few moments and then said, “Maybe I don’t understand you any more than Serena does.”

“Maybe not,” Sam said, “but if you had a big poker game you wouldn’t let me play in your place, would you?”

“That’s not the same,” Evan said. “I wouldn’t be playing for my life.”

Sam shrugged and said, “That’s the nature of the way we both ended up living our lives. The stakes in my life are slightly
higher than in yours.”

It was agreed that Evan would go and meet Serena as planned while Sam and Jubal rode out to the section of the ranch where
their father had liked to hunt.

As they rode out there Jubal said, “Pa never took me hunting.”

“We took you with us sometimes,” Sam said, “but you were too small to remember.”

“Really? What did you hunt?”

“Jackrabbit, mostly,” Sam said. “Once in a while we’d get us a buck. Once we all came across cougar sign and tracked the animal
to its lair.”

“Who got it?”

“Pa did, on the dead run. He was the best shot I ever saw with a rifle.”

“Still?”

“Hell, yes, still.”

“Better than you?”

“He was always a better rifle shot than me.”

“Better than some of your friends?”

“Friends?”

“Hickok, Ben Thompson, Bat Masterson.”

“What makes you think those fellas were friends of mine?”

“I read…guess I shouldn’t believe everything I read, huh?”

“I know those fellas, for sure,” Sam said. “Knew Hickok real well, although we never did like each other all that much. Man
shouldn’t die the way he did, though, at the hands of a backshootin’ coward.”

“Is that how you expect to die, Sam?”

Sam looked over at his little brother.

“I expect to die from a bullet, Jube. I prefer that it not come from behind, though. I pray it doesn’t.”

“What’s it like?” Jubal asked.

“What?”

“Not being afraid to die,” Jubal said. “When I was up on that scaffold I was so scared I coulda shit, except they woulda liked
that.”

“What makes you think I ain’t afraid to die?”

“The way you talk about it.”

“I expect it, Jube,” Sam said. “I expect there ain’t a whole lot I can do about it. That don’t mean I ain’t afraid of it.”

“I thought you wasn’t afraid of nothing” Jubal said.

Sam laughed.

“It’s no shame bein’ afraid, Jubal,” Sam said. “A man who says he’s never been afraid is either a fool or a liar. If you were
afraid up on that scaffold, that’s only natural.

Hell, when I saw you up there with that rope around your neck I was plenty afraid.”

“Why’s that?” Jubal asked.

“You’re my brother.”

“Yeah, but we don’t really know each other, Sam,” Jubal said. “In fact, we’re almost strangers—or we were before this started.”

“That don’t make no never mind, Jube,” Sam said.

“You’re still my brother. Fact that we ain’t seen each other in years don’t change that.”

“Guess I ain’t never had the chance to tell you I was proud to be your brother,” Jubal said. “Anytime I ever heard anyone
talking about you I always wanted to tell them you was my brother.”

“You didn’t?”

“Naw. For one thing I didn’t figure they’d believe me. Later, I started to figure that maybe I was proud of you for the wrong
reasons. Still, from what I seen of you since you and Evan got me off that scaffold, I’m right proud to call both of you my
brothers.”

“Well, we feel the same, Jube,” Sam said, slapping his brother on the back.

“Maybe we should stay in closer touch after this is over,” Jubal said.

“Maybe we should” Sam agreed.

But they both knew that wouldn’t likely happen. When this was over the three of them would go their own ways—at least Sam
and Evan would. Sam was over forty, Evan closing in on it, they were set in their ways. Jubal might very well leave Vengeance
Creek with one of them, but Sam would make damned sure it wasn’t him. He didn’t need Jubal around when the lead started flying
his way. He didn’t want his brother around when that last piece of lead found its way to his heart. He’d be much better off
with Evan, maybe even learning to play cards.

There was more money in gambling than there was in gunplay, that was for damned sure.

When they finally reached the part of the ranch Sam wanted he reined in.

“We used to hunt this section here, for a few miles around.”

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