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  “I’m gonna have to draw them out, or some of you are gonna get a bullet in the back,” Will insisted, ignoring Shorty’s sarcasm. “Now, tell me what I’m up against with Rubin and the old man.”

  They all participated in painting a picture of the fierce old man who headed the Cheney clan. And by the time they had all made their comments, Will had a pretty good idea that Ike might be harder to fight than all of his sons. Shorty, Cal, and Slim all agreed that Ike Cheney would keep coming after Will until one of them was dead. He would have to deal with Rubin as well, but it was Ike who posed the greatest threat. “Well, I reckon we’ll see what’ll happen when we put his two sons up for everybody to gawk at,” Will said. “I figure he’ll come through town on his way here, so I’ll have to be in town early to give Sam Harvey time to nail a couple of coffins together. If Ike Cheney is as crazy as you’re tellin’ me, though, we might still have a visit from him tonight.”

  “That shack they’re stayin’ in is about twenty miles from here,” Shorty said. “By the time Rubin gets there it’s gonna be pretty close to daylight. There ain’t likely to be enough time for Ike to get back here before mornin’.”

  “Yeah,” Will said when he thought about it. “You’re right, but we’d better stay alert for the rest of the night, just in case Rubin decides to come back for another try instead of riding back to tell his daddy.” It seemed unlikely, since he had run the first time. “And I’d best get into town early in the mornin’,” he repeated.

  With no way to know if Rubin would return that night seeking vengeance, there was no choice but to remain in a state of readiness for another raid. No one was in a mood to go back to bed, anyway, so Anna built the fire up again in the kitchen stove. The temperature had not dropped to the point where the pump was frozen, so she was able to start a pot of coffee. It was not quite ready when Mutt rode back into the yard, having heard all the shooting that had taken place. “It sounded like a war had broke out over here,” he exclaimed when he saw Billy coming out of the back of the barn. “I heard it from the other side of the north ridge.” When he heard what had happened, he went in the barn to gawk at the bodies with Billy, who gave him an excited description of his and Will’s reception for Luke and Buck Cheney. “Well, I’m sorry I missed all the fuss,” Mutt said.

  “Yes, sir,” Billy said. “There was a lot of shootin’, all right, but it’s all over now. Will said we’d best be watchin’ for that one that ran to come back, just in case.”

  When they went to the house to join the others, Shorty told them to help Slim and Cal carry some boards from the stack of lumber in the back of the barn. “Pick up a couple of hammers and some nails and cover those windows. Maybe that’ll keep some of the wind out.” He was calculating that it would probably take several weeks to get replacement sashes for the broken windows. “Then I reckon you can come on in the house and get some coffee. Ain’t nobody gonna be sleepin’ no more tonight.”

  CHAPTER 5

  It was still dark when Rubin rode a weary horse splashing across Kettle Creek to approach the rustic cabin on the west bank. Without taking the time to tend to his horse, Rubin stumbled over the low threshold in his haste to get inside. He found his father sitting in the lone rocking chair before the fire where he had remained all night, awaiting his sons’ return. “Pa!” Rubin cried out, dreading to tell him of his failure. “It was an ambush! They was waitin’ for us!”

  “Where are your brothers?” Ike asked, his voice deadly and calm, having already suspected the reason for Luke and Buck’s absence, his eyes seeming to glow red from the reflection of the fire.

  “There was too many of ’em,” Rubin pleaded. “They musta hired on a bunch of men. It weren’t just them three that we’ve been watchin’, they’ve hired on a lot more that was waitin’ in the bunkhouse, I reckon.”

  “Where are your brothers?” Ike repeated, his gaze burning into Rubin’s soul.

  “There was more of ’em set up in the barn, waitin’ for Buck and Luke, and they never had a chance. They shot ’em down.”

  “But you got away,” Ike said.

  “I had to fight my way out,” Rubin lied. “And I was about outta cartridges. I had to run for it. There weren’t nothin’ I could do to help Luke and Buck—they was already dead.”

  Ike said nothing for a long moment while he continued to study his eldest son’s face, trying to decide if he was telling the truth about an ambush. The way Rubin was cowering before him as he told his version of what had happened at the J-Bar-J served only to raise the angry fire in Ike’s veins. In a few seconds, his overpowering frustration spawned a rage that screamed for vengeance, and the only object to vent his passion upon was his sniveling son kneeling before him. Suddenly he struck out at him with his fist, the blow landing flush against Rubin’s jaw, knocking him to the floor. After a few more moments passed, with Rubin afraid to move, Ike snarled, “Get up from there and get outta my sight, before I take a gun to you.” Rubin wasted no time in obeying. Already resigned to the beating he had expected, he rolled over out of his father’s reach before scrambling to his feet and heading for the kitchen. He almost collided with his sister, who had been awakened by his arrival and was on her way to the front room, where her father was seated.

  Stopped by the sight of the lump already growing on the side of Rubin’s jaw, she asked, “What happened to you?” Then before he could answer, she asked, “Where’s Buck and Luke?” When he told her the same story he had just told their father, she showed the same sympathy as Ike had. “He oughta shot you,” Hannah said. “You’re lucky he didn’t have a gun handy.” When Rubin tried to excuse his actions, she cut him off. “Get your sorry behind outta here before he decides he wants his gun, because if he does, I’ll sure as hell fetch it for him.” Rubin knew it would be to no avail to try to plead his case to her, so he continued on through the kitchen to the tiny addition built onto the back of the cabin. Until this night, it had been the bedroom for him and his brothers. He was hungry, but decided it best not to mention it at this point.

  Hannah went into the front room to find her father still sitting by the fireplace, staring, unseeing, at the front door. She didn’t speak at once, but seeing that the fire was dying out, she picked up an iron bar they used for a poker and stirred up the coals before placing a couple more pieces of firewood on them. Only after there was a healthy flame again, did she turn to face her father. “I shoulda been the one that went over there to find that son of a bitch,” she said. “They didn’t get him, did they?”

  He looked up to meet her gaze, the fury in his eyes turning now to pure frustration. But all he said was, “Rubin didn’t say.”

  Like her father, Hannah did not have to be told that Will Tanner was still alive. Rubin’s whipped-dog demeanor when he slinked back to the cabin was announcement enough that they had failed. “It ain’t over,” she said. “Not as long as I can ride a horse and shoot a gun. I guarantee you, I’ll see that he pays for the mistake he made when he decided to take on this family.”

  Ike looked up at her, wishing as he had many times before, that she had been born a man, for he believed that, of all his offspring, her veins alone were filled with 100 percent Cheney blood. Her brothers had been born with too much Mashburn blood from their mother’s side. His eyes softened just a hair when he spoke to her. “I’ll see to the rightin’ of this wrong, myself,” he said. “It ain’t for you to do. I shoulda knowed your brothers couldn’t take care of it. Now I ain’t got nobody but Rubin to help me provide for this family.” Although three of his sons had been killed, his sense of loss was more deeply seated in the knowledge that they would no longer be available to help rustle cattle. Their mother would do enough mourning for their deaths. “I’ll take care of Mr. Tanner,” he said to his daughter. “I need you to help your mama. When she finds out about Buck and Luke, she’ll be moanin’ like a sick cow.” He paused to give Hannah a reassuring nod, then said, “You might as well wake her up, I’m gettin’ hungry.” Then he rem
embered something else. “Your mama was wantin’ one of the boys to ride into town this mornin’ to pick up some supplies, flour, and lard, and such. Maybe you’d better do that. I’d send Rubin after ’em, but I want him here right now. I ain’t through with him yet.”

  “Whatever you say, Pa,” Hannah said. “But I’d just as soon ride over to the J-Bar-J with you.”

  “I ain’t ready for that yet,” Ike said. “First, I need to find out how many guns I’ll have to face. If there’s as many as Rubin says, I don’t wanna ride into no damn ambush like him and his brothers rode into.”

  * * *

  “Is that a fact?” Sam Harvey asked when he read the crude sign Will had printed with a small paintbrush from Sam’s workbench. “I mean, I thought you were a deputy marshal over in Indian Territory. Are you taking on the job of sheriff here in Sulphur Springs?” It seemed an obvious question to ask, considering the size of the town. There was only the one general store, Sam’s barbershop, the stables, a blacksmith, one church, and two saloons. There was no sheriff’s office or jail, and certainly no one willing to pay a sheriff’s salary.

  “Not permanently,” Will said. “Just for a day or two. What do I owe you for these two boxes you call coffins?” Billy had offered to stay and give Will a hand, but Will sent him back to the ranch in case Cheney and his surviving son showed up there again. He figured it wouldn’t hurt for Shorty and the boys to have another gun available.

  “Two dollars,” Sam replied, aware of the sarcastic tone of Will’s question. “You said you didn’t want anything fancy,” he added in defense of the hasty construction. “And you didn’t give me much time to make ’em. What are you gonna do with ’em now?” He stepped back as if to take another look at his presentation of the bodies in the open coffins. “You sure you don’t want me to clean ’em up a little? Ol’ Ike Cheney ain’t gonna be too tickled when he sees ’em like this.”

  “Nope. They’ll be just fine just like they are.” Will peeled off two dollars and handed them to Sam. “Now you can give me a hand to tote these two over to that tree next to The Cattleman’s,” he said, taking hold of one end of Buck Cheney’s coffin. The cottonwood he referred to was the only tree close to the road at the north end of the town. Close to the saloon, it offered the only place where the coffins could be propped up where they wouldn’t be missed by anyone passing that way.

  “Whaddaya taking ’em to the saloon for?” Sam asked as he picked up the other end.

  “So everybody in town can have a chance to say good-bye before they’re buried,” Will said.

  Knowing that the deputy was obviously joking, Sam walked the coffin out the door with him. “You’re fixin’ to set ’em up so everybody can gawk at ’em, ain’tcha? Ol’ Ike ain’t gonna like that very much. The fact that they’re dead is gonna rile him enough without putting his sons on public display. He’s liable to come lookin’ for you.”

  “You reckon?” Will replied facetiously. “Set your end down. We’ll prop him up against the trunk. We can set his brother up right beside him.” With Buck in place, they went back to get Luke. By the time they returned with the second body, a few people had already discovered the gruesome display. Fred Morris walked out of his store to ask Will if he was really going to be the sheriff. “Maybe,” Will answered, “but not for long.” His answer left Fred confused, but Will thought it best not to let anyone in on the ruse. He had been obliged to tell Moe Garvin what he had in mind, since he was setting his bait up so close to his saloon. Moe wasn’t too enthusiastic about the plan, but agreed to it as long as Will stationed himself there to face any trouble it caused.

  Once his bait was in place, Will took Buster down to the stable and told Caleb Smith to water and feed him. Then he walked back to the saloon. He was not at all sure if his plan would work, but he was hoping it would draw Ike Cheney’s attention away from the J-Bar-J. The best solution to the problem would be if Cheney decided to take what was left of his family and move on to someplace else, but Will knew there was little chance of that. Based on what he had learned about the old man, he expected that he would be satisfied with nothing short of complete revenge. The possible flaw in his plan was the likelihood that Cheney wouldn’t find out that his sons’ bodies were on display. He might not come through town on his way to the ranch. Maybe, Will thought, I should have just gone out to Kettle Creek to find Rubin and hold him somewhere until the Texas Rangers could be contacted to come and get him. After all, Ike Cheney had actually done nothing to be arrested for, unless it could be proved he was stealing cattle. “Hell,” he muttered to himself, as he stepped up on the porch of the saloon, “we’ll just wait a little while and see if anything happens.”

  “I was beginning to wonder where you were,” Moe said when Will walked into The Cattleman’s. “I thought you said you were gonna stay right here as long as those bodies are damn near on my front porch. I’m settin’ myself up for a whole passel of trouble if Ike Cheney thinks I had anything to do with settin’ those damn corpses so close to my saloon.”

  “I am gonna stay here,” Will replied, “and right now I need something to eat. I ain’t had my breakfast yet. Is your wife cookin’ this mornin’?”

  “Same as always,” Moe said, and called his wife. “Ellie, you got a customer wantin’ some breakfast.”

  In a minute, Ellie came to the kitchen door. “Oh, it’s you,” she grunted, apparently not pleased by the bait Will had set up so close to the saloon. “Whaddaya want, some eggs and ham? I’ve got some biscuits. I already threw the grits to the hogs.”

  “Eggs and ham and a couple of biscuits will do just fine, if you’ve got some coffee to go with it,” Will said. She turned and went back into the kitchen.

  When she returned with his breakfast, she set the plate before him and said, “You never said how you wanted ’em, so you’re gettin’ ’em over easy.”

  “I’ll take ’em any way you fix ’em,” he said, “just as long as they’re cooked.”

  “Pay Moe for ’em,” she said, and returned to the kitchen.

  “I don’t think your wife likes me very much,” Will said to Moe when he sat down at the table to talk while Will ate.

  “She likes you all right,” Moe said. “She just don’t like it too much when you hang around. That killin’ in here yesterday got her to thinkin’ bad things happen when you’re around.” Will took a gulp of coffee to wash a bite of biscuit down before reminding Moe that there was going to be a shooting in his saloon whether he had showed up or not, only it would have been Slim Rogers dead instead of Levi Cheney. “I tried to tell her that,” Moe insisted. “But you know women.”

  “I don’t reckon I do,” Will said truthfully, thinking of the brief experience he’d had with the opposite sex.

  * * *

  With no one to feed now but the four of them, Hannah was thinking she might need to revise her list. She wasn’t in the mood to go to buy supplies. She was more of a mind to take some restitution on the man who had destroyed her family, but they had to eat. Like her father, she didn’t expect to miss her brothers, but she was damn mad that their livelihood would be shorthanded. They weren’t getting rich in the cattle business as it was and now there were only Pa and Rubin to carry on the family business. They had a little money on hand since they had just sold some cattle, but it was going to be hard to get more with just her and Rubin to help her pa.

  Damn useless boys, she thought. First time they come up against a gunhand like Will Tanner, and all three of them got killed. It didn’t help that her father was getting long in the tooth, either. Well, I reckon it’s up to me now, and I know damn well I can handle it. Her thoughts were interrupted then when she spotted the two odd-shaped boxes leaning up against the big cottonwood just north of The Cattleman’s. She’d never seen them there before, so she kept a curious eye on them as she closed the distance between her and the tree. There were two young boys standing before them, looking at the boxes.

  The road took a wide curve around the cot
tonwood, and as she drove the wagon around it, she could see that the boxes had no lids. They look like coffins, the thought occurred. A few yards farther brought her to a spot where she could see the contents. She hauled back hard on the reins, almost causing the horses to rear up when she saw the remains of her two brothers. Stunned by the lifeless eyes that stared, unseeing, at her, she was frozen for a long moment before she was able to force her brain to function again. She was at once furious that someone had seen fit to put her brothers on display. There had been no attempt to make the bodies more presentable. Their eyes were still open, their clothes disheveled and stained from the great loss of blood from several wounds on each one. This was no doubt the work of Sam Harvey. He was the undertaker, and surely the maker of the coffins. Her shock rapidly gave way to rage, and she vowed to repay the man for his disrespect.

  When she climbed down from the wagon, the two boys decided it better to leave, judging by the look of fury they saw in her face. “Wait,” she commanded, stopping them in their tracks. “What does it say?” she demanded, pointing to the sign someone had lettered and leaned against Buck’s coffin. None of her family had been to school, so none could read. When the boys hesitated, she commanded, “Read it to me.”

  There was something about the woman’s face that told the boys it might be unwise to ignore her and run away. She looked to be a woman, with her long hair, but she carried herself more like a man. Dressed in men’s clothes, she even wore a gun belt with a pistol on one hip and a long skinning knife on the other. One of the boys, who appeared to be the older, read the sign for her, pronouncing the words slowly and distinctly, “This is what happens to cattle rustlers in Sulphur Springs, Will Tanner, Sheriff.”

  “Sheriff?” she exclaimed, surprised. “Will Tanner.” She spat the name out as if it were a foul thing on her tongue. “He’s a dead man.” She stood, transfixed in her fury for a moment before seeming to remember the boys’ presence. “Get the hell outta here before I put a bullet in your head,” she hissed. “No, wait!” she ordered, stopping them before they could flee the scene. “Pick up the end of that coffin.” She tilted the top of Luke’s coffin over and caught it in her hands and waited while the two boys strained to pick up the other end from the ground. Amazed by the woman’s strength, the boys managed to lift their end of the coffin and hold it up until Hannah could slide it into the wagon. Then they repeated their efforts and guided the other coffin in beside the first one.