Silver Creek - G.L. Snodgrass Page 0,64

concern. Worry for him. It was enough to make a man glad to be alive.

“I’m done, Becky,” he said as his shoulders slumped. “I’ll take Mark Felton to the Penitentiary,” he added. “But when I get back. We’ll go to Oregon. I don’t think I will ever find out who killed your uncle.”

She smiled as she rushed to him and wrapped her arms around him. “You. That is all that matters.”

He held her, soaking in her strength as a thousand thoughts flashed through his mind. Things had changed, he realized. Now that he had something worth losing it made a man look at the world differently.

“Come on,” he said as he slipped an arm around her waist to start back to the jail.

“Can’t someone else take him?” Rebecca asked. “We could be married tomorrow and on the road the day after.”

He laughed, “Let me finish this my way. But it’s over. Felton won't’ make another try. We’ll get married when I get back from Carson City, I promise.”

She looked up at him with doubtful eyes. He wondered if she didn’t believe him or couldn’t dare think it might be behind them.

When they got to the jail, his brother lifted an eyebrow. “You pushed things close, brother.”

Luke shrugged his shoulders. “I need you to keep an eye on things for a week or so. I’m taking Felton tomorrow.”

“You goin’ to catch the stage at Peabody? his brother asked.

“They got one headed west, leaving in three days,” Luke replied. “It’ll cut off six days going straight through and changing horses. Besides,” he added as he glanced over at Becky, “I got a good reason to get back quick-like.”

She blushed, but her smile made his world feel right.

.o0o.

Later that evening, Luke walked up the dark street. The town seemed quiet. As if it had been holding its breath and finally let the air out. People smiled and nodded to him as he passed. But they kept their distance.

Sighing to himself, Luke stepped into the Red House and found a half dozen men leaning on the bar. None of them Circle B boys.

“Frost,” he said with a nod of his head.

The bartender swallowed hard then nodded back.

Doc Weaver shuffled his deck of cards then nodded to him, a silent show of respect. The miners and cowboys were looking at him differently. Nervous like. As if they were worried he might explode at any minute.

Weaver cut the cards then looked up. “I have to believe that was one of the fastest draws I have ever seen. And I saw Sam Bass down in Texas. McAdams was saying you shot that Dawson straight through the heart. He was dead before he hit the ground.”

“McAdams talks too much,” Luke growled.

Weaver laughed as he began to deal out the cards to the other players.

Luke let it wash away as he studied the barroom for a moment. Things looked calm. Quiet.

“I’m taking Felton to the Penitentiary tomorrow,” he said to Frost. “But my brother will be here keeping an eye on things. I don’t want to hear about no problems when I get back. Understand me?”

Frost smiled. “I done told you, Sheriff, we are a right friendly group. You won’t be having problems with this lot.”

Luke laughed as he turned his back on them and stepped out into the night. As he started back to the jail, he felt a sense of guilt fill him as he thought of Tom Johnson buried out on his ranch. His murder would not be avenged.

He was passing the gap between the General Store and the Bull’s Head when a sound off down the alley caught his intention.

He spun, his hand dropping to his gun when Kwe’ Nal, Red Hawk stepped out of the shadows. Rebecca’s Shoshone friend, Luke remembered.

“Park-er, we talk,” the tall Indian said as he nodded for him to join him in the darkness of the alley.

Luke’s insides fought with themselves as he tried to calm his racing heart. He’d almost drawn and killed the man before he knew who it was. He needed to get a hold of himself. Obviously, this afternoon’s battle had him on edge.

Taking a deep breath, he joined the man in the deep shadows where they couldn’t be seen from the street. Lifting an eyebrow, he waited.

The tall Indian studied him for a long moment. “I am told of you killing a man today. A hard man.”

“He was paid to kill me. He was not paid enough.”

The Indian grunted then looked off into the night.