“When the federal marshal gets here,” Sam said, “he’ll place Coffin under arrest. Coffin will give the marshal Lincoln Burkett.”
“But John Burkett paid Coffin to kill Evan,” Dude Miller said. “You said so yourself.”
“And Lincoln Burkett paid Coffin to kill me, only he didn’t get the job done.” Sam looked at Jubal and said, “Believe me, Jube, this is the way to do it. This way we’ll take them down together.”
“If you had killed Coffin we could have gone out to Burkett’s ranch and killed him, and
“That ain’t the way Evan would have done it,” Sam said, “and it wouldn’t have been Pa’s way. You read Pa’s letter.”
“What letter?” Miller asked.
“We found a letter from Pa,” Sam said, “but we can talk about that later. Jube—”
Sam reached for Jubal, but the younger man pulled away and started to walk out.
“Jubal!” Sam snapped. “I need you.”
“You don’t need me,” Jubal said. “You got it all figured out by yourself.”
“Where are you goin?”
“Out.”
“Jube.” Sam crossed the room and grabbed his brother’s arm. Jubal tried to pull away but Sam held him tightly.
“Burkett’s gonna come for me, Jube, and he’s gonna try to get Coffin out of jail. The sheriff isn’t gonna hold up under this. You and I are gonna have to stand against Burkett and his men until the marshal gets here.”
“Which is when?” Jubal asked.
“I don’t know.”
“This is madness,” Serena said. “The two of you can’t hold off Burkett and all of his men.”
“There are three of us,” Dude Miller said.
“Pa!”
“Dude,” Sam said, “I’m gonna hold you to that.”
Dude Miller nodded.
“What are we gonna do?” Jubal asked.
“We’re gonna occupy the jail” Sam said, “and we ain’t comin’ out until the marshal gets here. Serena?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll need you to send another telegram. We’re gonna have to make damned sure that marshal is on his way.”
Serena took a deep breath and said, “I’ll help any way I can, Sam.”
Sam thanked her and looked at Jubal.
“Jube?”
Jubal thought it over a moment, and finally said, “I’m with you.”
Sam smiled and said, “I knew you would be.”
“But if things go wrong,” Jubal said, “the first thing I’m gonna do is put a bullet in Coffin’s head. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” Sam said. “I’ll even help you.”
The three men who had been standing with John Burkett had a decision to make. They could ride back to the ranchand tell Lincoln Burkett that they had let his son be killed, or they could mount up and just keep riding.
In the end they decided that their jobs were too good to just walk away from. If Burkett fired them, that would be another thing, but they couldn’t just walk away from these jobs. Besides, Burkett wouldn’t kill them. He was going to need all the men he could put his hands on to get his revenge on Sam McCall.
They knew they were going to have to work fast.
They were going to have to fortify the jail, stock it with food and water, and get it ready to withstand any and all attempts to enter it before Lincoln Burkett arrived with his men.
Luckily, Dude Miller gave them free access to his store, which had most of what they needed: canned food, blankets, sheets, coffee, and whatever else. He even had wooden shutters, which they nailed up over the windows, leaving only space enough to shoot through.
Ed Collins at the gunsmith shop also pitched in, giving them all the ammunition they’d need for their guns and offered to stay inside with them.
“No, Mr. Collins,” Sam had told him, “I think we’ll need someone on the outside who’s on our side.”
Collins argued, but in the end he saw the wisdom of that.
They also went over to Doc Leader’s to get what they would need to tend to bullet wounds. Doc thought they were crazy, and he bitched and moaned, but he gave them what they needed.
“Don’t be expectin’ me to come over there and tend to you, though,” he told them. “I may be an old man, but I ain’t in any hurry to die.”
“Don’t you worry, Doc,” Sam said, “we’ll tend ourselves.”
They lugged all the equipment over to the sheriff’s office under the watchful eye of the whole town. The sheriff didn’t help, preferring to stay behind his desk and fret about his safety.
They were all in the office when the door opened and a well-fed, jowly, officious-looking man in his fifties stepped in.
“Mr. Mayor,” Kelly said.
Sam turned and looked at the mayor of Vengeance Creek, whom he had not yet met.
“Which of you is Sam McCall?” the mayor asked.
“I am.”
The two men locked eyes, and to Sam’s satisfaction it was the mayor who looked away first. Obviously the man was not looking forward to the conversation that was coming. He had probably been elected by the town council as spokesman.
“Mr. McCall, I am Mayor Eustace Tenderberry. Uh, we on the town council cannot…condone what you are about to do.”
“Oh? And what is it I’m about to do?”
“Well, sir, uh, you are about to turn this town into a battlefield. What’s worse, your opponent is the town’s most prominent citizen.”
“Mr. Mayor,” Sam said, “what is about to go on between Burkett and me is our business. I’m sure even he would not want you interfering in it.”
“Nevertheless,” Tenderberry said, “for the safety of our town, and of Mr. Burk—uh, I mean of all our citizens, I’m afraid we must ask you to leave. Sheriff?” the mayor said, looking at his lawman. “You will escort Mr. McCall and his brother to the town limits.”
“Mayor,” Kelly said, gaping at the man, “are you crazy?”
“Sheriff!” Mayor Tenderberry said. “Either you do your duty or I must ask you to hand over your badge.”
“Well, shit,” Kelly said, “that’s the best offer I had all day.” Hurriedly he unpinned the badge from his shirt and dropped it on the desk. On his way out he said to the Mayor, “Now
The mayor watched the sheriff leave and then turned to face Sam McCall.
I’ll, uh, ask you again—” The man stopped when Sam took a few steps toward him and flinched, as if he thought Sam was going to strike him. Dude Miller and Jubal watched with interest.
“Mr. Mayor, I suggest you go to your town council and tell them you tried your best to get my brother and me to leave, but it didn’t work.”
“B-but—” the mayor stuttered, “but—we don’t have a sheriff now!”
Sam smiled humorlessly, walked to the desk, and picked up the badge.
“Now you do.”
“What—”
“Unless you want the job?” Sam held out the badge to the man.
“No, no, no—” the man said, his face flushing.
Sam pinned the badge on.
“Jube, you’re a duly sworn deputy. So are you, Dude.”
