The band broke out in a stirring tune and the crowd went wild with cheers and applause. Aides got Tilghman, Thomas, and Madsen positioned beside the podium, on line with the cameras. The governor moved from man to man, pinning a beribboned gold medal to the breasts of their suit coats. Flashpans exploded as he paused before each of the lawmen, shaking hands, smiling broadly for the cameras. Then, with a final word of praise, the governor was whisked away by his aides. The band played on as the crowd raised a last, rousing cheer.
“How ’bout that?” Thomas said, fingering the medal on his chest. “You boys ever expect to be heroes?”
“I don’t know about heroes,” Madsen said in a wry tone. “But the governor was right about one thing. We took on a dirty job and we got it done. That goes for you and Bill, especially.”
Tilghman laughed. “Truth be known, none of us deserve medals. Nobody forced us to wear a badge.”
“Nobody but ourselves,” Thomas said, grinning. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have run for sheriff. Told you once, you’re a born lawman.”
“You should talk,” Madsen heckled. “All the badges you’ve worn, you’ve lost count by now.”
“Chris, I found my calling, that’s all. Took the gospel to the heathens.”
Patrick Nagle interrupted their bantering to offer his congratulations. He wished Tilghman well in his new job, and thanked Madsen for having made the trip from Missouri. They chatted for a while and after a final round of handshakes, he drifted off. Thomas suddenly looked somber.
“Just hit me,” he grunted. “You boys are leavin’ me all by my lonesome. Don’t know what I’ll do for laughs.”
“Door’s always open,” Tilghman said. “Come visit me over at Chandler. Maybe we could catch ourselves some whiskey smugglers.”
“Jesus, I don’t know as I need laughs that bad.”
Their good-natured joshing continued as they moved off the platform. Zoe and her father joined them, and Tilghman introduced the other two lawmen to Amos Stratton. Thomas shook his hand with an expression of mock concern.
“Guess you know your daughter’s marryin’ a drifter.”
“Drifter?” Stratton repeated, missing the humor. “Bill Tilghman?”
Thomas nodded solemnly. “Drifts from one job to another real regular. One day a marshal, the next day a sheriff. Never know where he’ll end up.”
“Oh yes, I do!” Zoe interjected gaily. “He’ll end up at home every night, right where he belongs. No more wild chases with you, Heck Thomas.”
“With me?” Thomas sounded hurt. “Bill’s the one that was always draggin’ me off to the Nations and such. I’m strictly a stay-at-home sort.”
Zoe laughed, taking Tilghman’s arm. “Well, I’ve removed temptation from your path. You can stay at home all you care to.”
“Yeah, I know,” Thomas said sadly. “Gonna be awful dull around here.”
Tilghman said his goodbyes there. He and the Strattons had a long drive, and Madsen was scheduled out on the evening train. The lawmen were kindred spirits, and there was a strong sense of loss when they shook hands. They realized they would probably never work together again, and their parting was all the more difficult. As Thomas and Madsen walked away, Tilghman felt an inward tug of regret. He would miss them.
* * *
Later, on the road out of town, Tilghman was in a quiet mood. Stratton was driving, and Tilghman and Zoe sat close together in the back seat of the buggy. Zoe sensed that his thoughts were on the parting with Thomas and Madsen. Yet her thoughts were on an altogether different matter, one she had never before put into words. She understood that a lawman’s work was often cold and hard, sometimes brutal. Today, watching the three marshals shake hands, she was reminded that a badge brought with it a burden. She wondered how it affected the man she was about to marry.
“Bill?” she said, unable to resist curiosity. “Would you tell me something if I ask?”
“I’ll do my best.”
“When you face someone like Doolin, a killer? Does it change you—inside?”
“Never thought about it.” Tilghman was reflective a moment. “Guess I’ve been at it so long, it’s like second nature. I do what needs doing to get the job done. What makes you ask?”
“Well—” She hesitated, selecting her words. “I’ve never seen that side of you, and I’m curious. What you’re like when you…”
“Zoe, I’m just me,” Tilghman said with a crooked smile. “Told you before, I’m only good at two things. One’s raising horses and the other’s enforcing the law.”
She was silent a moment. His statement was his way of telling her that however things might appear, in the end he was simply himself. She snuggled closer, hugging his arm.
“Let’s hope you’re good at one other thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Oh, you know,” she said in a throaty voice “… being a husband.”
Tilghman burst out laughing. “We’ll know soon enough.”
“No,” she whispered in his ear. “Not nearly soon enough.”
Amos Stratton strained to hear her reply. Then he realized that he wasn’t meant to hear, even if she was his daughter. Some things, and rightfully so, were between a man and a woman.
He drove on toward Chandler.
NOVELS BY MATT BRAUN
WYATT EARP
BLACK FOX
OUTLAW KINGDOM
LORDS OF THE LAND
CIMARRON JORDAN
BLOODY HAND
NOBLE OUTLAW
TEXAS EMPIRE
THE SAVAGE LAND
RIO HONDO
THE GAMBLERS
DOC HOLLIDAY
YOU KNOW MY NAME
THE BRANNOCKS
THE LAST STAND
RIO GRANDE
GENTLEMAN ROGUE
THE KINCAIDS
EL PASO
INDIAN TERRITORY
BLOODSPORT
SHADOW KILLERS
BUCK COLTER
KINCH RILEY
DEATHWALK
HICKOK & CODY
THE WILD ONES
HANGMAN’S CREEK
JURY OF SIX
THE SPOILERS
THE OVERLORDS
Praise for Matt Braun and OUTLAW KINGDOM:
“Matt Braun brings back the flavor of early Oklahoma and the grit of the men who brought law to an outlaw territory. He is a master storyteller of frontier history.”
—Elmer Kelton
“In OUTLAW KINGDOM I once again see the unique talent that placed Matt Braun head-and-shoulders above all the rest who would attempt to bring the gunmen of the Old West to life. In place of the laconic, two-dimensional gunslinger of Hollywood and so much pulp fiction today, Braun has given us his Bill
