High Gun at Surlock (2006) (2 page)

Huxton stuck out his hand.

‘I believe you’re just the man I’m looking for, Dane. Welcome to the company.’

Kyler spent the next day checking over the lay of the land. His horse needed a rest, so he rented a stable nag. He returned to find the elderly hostler mending a harness.

‘I was beginning to wonder if you got lost,’ the man said. ‘Old Nelly ain’t been out for a ride in a month of Sundays. I expect she’s about done in.’

‘Never gave me a hint of trouble, old-timer.’

‘It ain’t
old-timer
, sonny,’ he corrected gruffly. ‘Name’s Nathaniel Ethan Osborn. Folks call me Nat to save time.’

Kyler grinned. ‘Well, I’m not a
sonny
either, Nat. I’m Kyler Dane.’

Nat clucked his tongue. ‘Fair enough. Glad to meet you, Dane.’

‘Likewise,’ Kyler replied.

‘I used to shag freight for a living,’ Nat explained, ‘but my bones can’t take the jarring of a wagon any more. I opened up this livery and earn a sizable portion of my living by tending to Huxton’s animals and wagons. One of the straps was about worn
through on this here harness, so I’m replacing it with a new one.’

‘I’m supposed to start hauling for Huxton in the next day or two.’

‘I overheard a couple of the boys talking. They said Huxton had hired a gunman who would get their wagons through, no matter what.’

‘I’m no slouch with a gun, but I’m no gunman.’

‘That ain’t what the Wanted poster says.’

Kyler could not hide his surprise. ‘Wanted poster?’

‘I keep my eyes open and stay abreast of what’s going on most of the time. The handbill was from Colorado, wasn’t it.’

Rather than deny the charge, Kyler shrugged.

‘I made a mistake.’

The old boy stared him straight in the eye.

‘You don’t strike me as the sort with a short temper.’

‘No, I’m about as peaceful as a lamb.’

Nat chuckled. ‘Guess even a lamb kicks up his heels from time to time, huh?’

Kyler joined in with a laugh. ‘Yeah, on occasion.’

‘I’m about done here, sonny. I’ll let you treat me to a beer or two and we’ll be square for you
borrowing
Nelly for the day.’

‘Sounds fair.’

‘I’ll also fill you in on some of the happenings here in Surlock. Wouldn’t hurt for you to know the players at the table before you go betting on your hole card.’

Those words struck a sensible cord. Tate hadn’t given him much information. Kyler needed someone
who could tell him about the situation in Surlock. He’d buy the old gent a couple drinks and see what he could learn about the freighting war.

Strap Adere sauntered over to where Phoenix was eating his supper. Without an invite, he pulled out a chair and sat down across from him.

‘You meet the new man on the payroll?’ he asked.

Phoenix glanced at him.

‘Huxton mentioned a new hire, but I haven’t crossed paths with him as yet.’

‘Boss says he’s a bad man with a gun.’ Strap snorted his disdain. ‘What for do we need another gun? You and I can handle the Yates bunch without breaking a sweat.’

‘Someone has to shag freight and see the work gets done,’ Phoenix replied. ‘It’s sure not going to be me. Do you want to start playing teamster?’

‘That ain’t my point,’ Strap said. ‘I’m asking why we need a gun hand for the job. I took out Cory Yates slick as can be.’ He puffed up his chest. ‘Nailed him square in the brisket – twice – before he could even clear leather.’

Phoenix grunted his indifference. ‘Cory was a kid and a freighter to boot, Strap. I wouldn’t crow too much about taking someone like him in a gunfight.’

Strap scowled across the table. ‘I gave him an even chance and took him clean!’

‘Sure, Strap.’ Phoenix almost yawned the words. ‘But I’ll save my praise for when you take on a real man with a gun.’

Strap hated the way Phoenix continually put him
down. He was good with a gun, real good. He’d braced Yates at a mere fifteen feet. That took guts. If Yates had managed to get off even a single shot, he could have killed Strap from such a close distance. Phoenix sure ought to give him credit for his courage and speed with a gun.

‘You’re the big man,’ Strap growled his
disappointment
. ‘I know you was hired to scare off any opposition, but it don’t mean the rest of us are a bunch of culls. I’m near as good as you.’

A hint of frost entered Phoenix’s eyes.

‘Anytime you want to replace me on the payroll, all you have to do is come calling, Strap. I’ll give you first go.’

Strap’s pride smarted, but he was no fool.

‘Maybe I will one day.’ He tried to put conviction into his voice, but the words came out weak and impotent.

‘Don’t let anything but fear of death stop you, Strap,’ Phoenix suggested smoothly. ‘And be sure to write a note of goodbye for your family first.’

Strap rose to his feet. He wished he had a smart comeback, but he wasn’t going to push for a fight. Both of them knew who was the better man with a gun. In fact, no one was up to taking on Phoenix Cline … nary a man alive.

Jessie Yates was clearing the table when Kenny entered the house. She had given up on any of her three brothers arriving home in time for supper.

‘Jeff’s on the stage route,’ he said, looking around, ‘but where’s Mike?’

‘He took the Powder Mountain run. He won’t be back until tomorrow night.’

Ken pulled a chair around and sat down heavily. ‘You didn’t wait for me.’

‘You know I prepare supper for six o’clock. It’s half-past already.’

‘Sorry,’ he grumbled. ‘I was busy in town … checking out the latest gossip. Huxton has gone and hired himself another gun.’

Jessie groaned. ‘We can’t compete with the troop of gunhawks on his payroll now. What does he need with another man?’

‘Supposed to be a teamster. I saw him at the saloon – he and old Nat were having a beer together. The guy looked capable. I’d say he was hired to make certain Huxton doesn’t lose any of his freight.’

Jessie placed the kettle of stew on the stove to warm, then rested her hands on her hips.

‘Huxton must be worried we will retaliate for our loses.’

‘I’d wager you’re right,’ Ken agreed. ‘There’s no doubt he and his boys are behind our recent problems.’

‘What’s going to happen to us, Ken?’ Jessie asked bitterly. ‘We’ve spent every cent we have to pay for the freight that’s been stolen or destroyed. We can’t afford to make needed repairs on our wagons, let alone hire any more help. Now Mr Glenn, at the bank, has told Mike he can’t give us any more credit.’

‘Yeah, once Huxton moved in, we became a poor risk.’

‘Dad would come right up out of the grave if he
knew we were about to lose everything he worked for all his life.’

‘It ain’t right!’ Ken declared. ‘We were here first. We were taking care of every account in the valley and growing bigger and more secure every year. Along comes another express company and we’re in a struggle to even survive. Huxton, the greedy,
bloodsucking
skunk, is out to ruin us.’

Jessie decided the stew was warm enough and dished up a plate for her brother. He stuck a fork into a piece of meat and stared at it.

‘This is us, Jess,’ he said. ‘We’re a plate of stew for Huxton and his gunnies to eat alive.’

‘We can’t give up, Ken.’

‘Not until we’ve been chewed completely and devoured,’ he added.

‘We have to keep the business going,’ Jessie said. ‘If we can hold on to the bulk of our accounts, we can weather this through and maybe Huxton will give up.’

‘If Huxton was ready to fold, Jess, he wouldn’t have brought in another hardcase to bulk up his stance. The man won’t be happy until we’re broke and out of business.’

Jessie didn’t say so, but she had to agree with Ken. Charles Huxton wanted all of the business. It was likely to be a fight to the death and, from the way the deck was stacked, her family’s company would be the one doing the dying.

Just like Cory, she remembered. Tears burned at the back of her eyes, but she refused to give in to sorrow. They had always been a hard-working family.
When their mother had died of fever she had taken over the chores of the household. When their father was laid to rest Big Mike had become the manager and head of the company. Nothing had deterred the Yates family from continuing the family business. Nothing, that is, until Huxton arrived.

Jessie suffered a jaded and wrung-out sensation. Everything seemed so hopeless. She fought the frailty, knowing she had to be strong for her brothers. Mike, Jeff and Ken needed her. In spite of her being the only girl in the family, she had always pulled her own weight. She frequently drove the stage or hauled shipments with the small freight wagons. At home, she kept the house running smoothly and prepared most of the meals. She had always done more than any of the boys … except for Mike.

For a moment she wished she could relax and be a normal girl. She had spent most of her childhood competing with her brothers. Whether in
rough-house
games or working in the fields, she never let them get the better of her. However, being strong and independent had its drawbacks. As she was growing up most of the guys around had shunned Jessica Yates. She had a quick temper; if she got into a situation she couldn’t handle one of her brothers was right there to take care of it for her. As a result of her brothers’ protective natures, the local boys were a little on the shy side about trying to court her.

At a party or one of the monthly barn dances, she had usually ended up alone. It had changed over the past couple years, as she was older and men weren’t
as easily intimidated as the younger boys. Plus, there was an undeniable shortage of eligible girls in that part of the country. Even so, the suitors knew she was a woman to be reckoned with. Hold her too close during a dance and Big Mike or one of her other brothers might take exception.

For a moment, she allowed her mind to linger on the notion of romance. She yearned to have a
gentleman
or two come calling. She would have enjoyed being able to don a frilly dress, fix her hair like a proper lady, maybe use a little rouge to bring a blush to her face. She would enjoy feeling pretty, rather than being covered in dust and smelling like a team of sweaty horses. Being forced to help with the
business
end of things, she seldom looked much like a lady. Nor did her riding-outfit or work-clothes present her in the most favorable light. Hence the reason she sat alone evenings and at the Sunday meetings. She was still a tomboy, the Yates wildcat.

And who wants to tame a wildcat? she wondered.

Ken pushed aside the empty plate. ‘Guess I’ll try and get some shut-eye. I’ve got to be up early, so I can relieve Jeff for the stage-run tomorrow.’

‘Another of our worries,’ she said. ‘Huxton has ordered a new Concord coach. Once it arrives he’s bound to steal many of our customers.’

‘Another nail in our casket,’ Kenny replied. ‘His new stage might even be the final nail needed to bury us.’

Jessie cleared away his plate. ‘We work day and night and don’t gain a thing.’

‘Yeah, we really need to hire us another driver.’

‘Who is going to dare risk riling Huxton or Phoenix?’

‘No one I’ve ever met,’ Ken replied with a grunt. ‘If I wasn’t a part of this family, I’d have skedaddled a long time ago myself.’

‘Good night, Ken.’

‘Yeah, see you in the morning.’

Jessie waited until he’d left the room. Then she glanced up at the roof, attempting to penetrate through to the heavens above.

‘Dear Lord,’ she murmured, ‘we could sure use some help. We can’t win this fight alone. Don’t let us lose everything our family has worked so long and hard for … please.’

Kyler made several runs without incident, then was given time off for the town’s Fourth of July
celebration
. Almost everything shut down operations for the special activities. It was a day for fun, music, games and eating.

Kyler enjoyed spending time with Nat Osborn. He was a cheerful sort and they took in the sights of the festival together. They happened along the main road through town when Kyler spied a striking girl on the opposite side of the street. She seemed
preoccupied
in deep thought and didn’t notice him staring in her direction.

The young lady was attired in a dark riding-skirt and matching short jacket. She also wore cowgirl boots and a ladies’ Western-style hat. Her long, silken, auburn locks were not to be confined beneath the headgear, spilling out in a loose, flowing mane. 
She paused to brush at an untamed strand of hair that had blown into her angelic face and caught at the corner of her mouth.

She passed by, a mere twenty feet away, but did not look his way. Tyler whistled under his breath. There was a girl he had to meet.

‘Who is that little beauty?’ he asked Nat, tipping his head toward the girl.

‘Dang! sonny! You’re about as simple as a
thimble
!’ the old boy jeered at his shoulder. ‘You don’t want to go getting no ideas about her.’

‘Why not?’

‘She’s the one gal in the country who is sure to hate your guts.’ At Kyler’s confused frown, Nat explained: ‘That there is Jessie Yates of the Yates Freight Company. You’re working against her and her family.’

Kyler groaned. ‘I begin to see I’m on the wrong side of this here fracas.’

‘You’re a Huxton employee, sonny boy,’ Nat stated tersely. ‘Your boss is directly responsible for one of her brother’s being killed and is trying to ruin her whole family’s business. She ain’t packing nothing but a pocketful of contempt for anyone with the Huxton brand. Besides which, if’n she didn’t haul off and knock you silly for making eyes at her, one of her brothers would sure enough do it. And taking on Big Mike would be about as tough as wresting a spool of barbed wire. Ain’t no way you’re ever going to make hay with Jessie – not in this lifetime or the next!’

Kyler ignored the warning. ‘She’s dressed like she is going to do some hard riding.’

‘Jessie enters’ most every contest in town – the foot race, the baseball toss, tug-of-war and a few other games with the local women. I recall she won several prizes last year. She grew up playing and competing with her four brothers, so she’s as good as most men at physical sports and games.’