Kinsman of the Gun Page 11

  ‘I’m going back to the newspaper,’ she said. ‘I’ve done enough damage here.’

  She left and Stuart approached the desk.

  ‘Did you know him?’

  ‘I knew him.’

  ‘Did he rob you? Maybe you were in a bank when he robbed it.’

  ‘Not exactly.’

  ‘You rode with him, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘There was no need.’

  ‘How many men have you killed?’

  ‘I don’t know. The number doesn’t matter.’

  ‘Are you wanted?’

  ‘Yes, he is,’ Owen said, and he yawned and tried to shake off his sleep. ‘I was having a pleasant dream, and you gentlemen woke me up. Yes, Ezra McPherson is wanted, but not by the law. He’s wanted by a lot of young cowpokes who want to make a name by gunning down Ezra McPherson, but we’re not going to let that happen, are we, Zeke?’

  ‘No, we’re not. Sheriff Harrison told me you were the past come to Cheyenne.’

  ‘I reckon he was right,’ Ezra said.

  ‘I don’t care if you did ride with Jesse James. I appreciate what you’re doing. I don’t think I could go through this by myself.’

  ‘You’ll be all right,’ Owen said.

  ‘I’ve never shot at a man before. If we face off against Swearingen and his hired guns, I don’t know how I’ll react. Maybe I’ll run.’

  ‘Well, if you do,’ Owen said, ‘I’ll shoot you in your rear end.’

  ‘He’s not joking,’ Ezra said. ‘So you’d better not run. Don’t worry, Zeke. When the time comes, you’ll do the right thing.’

  Stuart tried to give the impression he was a man. That was especially true at the meeting of the town council. Sometimes, though, he felt like a boy. This was one of those times. He felt like a boy who wanted to hear tales of the West.

  ‘What was Jesse James like?’ Stuart asked.

  Ezra found it difficult to talk about Jesse and Frank James. He preferred to keep what he knew bottled up, but somehow this moment was different. He could not explain why.

  ‘At first he was a friend, the closest friend I had except for his brother, Frank. He was brave, one of the bravest men I’ve ever known. He was fierce. But the war – the killing – did something to him. Killing will do terrible things to a man.’

  ‘I hope you don’t mind my asking, but when did you kill your first man?’

  Ezra remembered. It was during the war. The town was small. He never knew if it even had a name. All he knew was that it was in Kansas. They just wanted to scare the folks a bit, to make sure they didn’t help the Yankees. Jesse said it would be fun. Frank thought it would be a waste of bullets.

  ‘How ’bout you, Ezra?’ Jesse asked. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘I don’t see the point.’

  ‘Hell, it’s war. There’s no point to anything.’

  So they rode up and down the street, yelling and firing into the air. It was the middle of the day, and women and children screamed and ran inside buildings. And then there was the man with a rifle. It looked like a musket, long and old. Jesse didn’t see him. The man wore an apron, bloodied from meat he obviously had been cutting for a customer. He took aim at Jesse’s back, and Ezra shouted and fired before the man pulled the trigger. The bullet struck the man in the middle of his chest and he fell. Suddenly a boy, no older than Bobby Beauchamp, was kneeling beside the man.

  ‘Pa! Pa! Say something, Pa! Don’t die, Pa!’

  Ezra jumped from his horse and ran to the boy.

  ‘You killed my pa! You killed my pa!’

  The boy was crying. The front of the man’s shirt was soaked in red. There was nothing Ezra could do.

  ‘I’m sorry. I’m – so – sorry.’

  ‘Ezra saved your life, Jesse,’ Frank said.

  ‘Much obliged, Ezra. Come on. Let’s get going.’

  Ezra did not want to leave the boy, but he did. He mounted his horse and rode after the others.

  Few were the times when Ezra had cried. But on that day, as he rode out of town, he wept. The past haunted his memories.

  ‘Zeke, maybe we shouldn’t ask things like that,’ Owen said. ‘We’ve got trouble coming our way. Let’s focus on that.’

  Ezra held his Colt firmly in his hand and checked the cylinder. Click, click, click. The sound was smooth. Stuart wanted to ask how many gunfights the Colt had seen – he saw that the dark brown handle was smooth – but he heeded Owen’s advice. He remained quiet.

  ‘Miss Endicott, is there anything else you want us to do? Do you want us to stay?’

  Ingrid was one of the farm girls who worked on the newspaper in the afternoons. She and the others were hard workers. They learned quickly. Perhaps one day one of them, perhaps Ingrid, would publish a newspaper. It’s a new day, Eloise thought.

  ‘No, we’ve done enough for now. If you can come back later this evening, that would be good. We’ll have a lot of work to do.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am.’

  Ingrid’s family had come from Georgia.

  ‘Ingrid, I know someone from Atlanta.’

  ‘You do? I’m from a town called Marietta, just to the northwest of Atlanta.’

  ‘He’s a newspaperman. He has printer’s ink in his veins just as we do.’

  ‘I’d like to meet him.’

  ‘He’s in Cheyenne for a short while. Perhaps you will. And, Ingrid, I need to tell you something. For the next few hours, you and the other girls should stay off the street.’

  ‘Is something wrong?’

  ‘There may be trouble, and I don’t want any of you to get hurt. You’re welcome to stay here.’

  Ingrid went to the back door, which opened into the room where the press sat ready to print. She stopped in a shaft of sunlight that fell through the window. Her light brown hair appeared even lighter.

  ‘Will you be all right?’ the girl asked.

  ‘Yes, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me. Tell the girls what I said.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am, I will.’

  Eloise was so hot she felt faint. She opened the front door and stepped onto the sidewalk. Late afternoon shadows crept from the buildings across the street. Shoppers, for the most part, had left. Shopkeepers began to close their doors for the evening. At the end of the sidewalk, just inside the alley that ran alongside the newspaper office, Marcus stood. She walked toward him.

  ‘Marcus, what on earth are you doing?’

  ‘I have a good view of the livery from here.’

  ‘I see. Was this Ezra’s idea?’

  ‘No, it was mine. When Swearingen rides into town, we need to know how many men he’s bringing.’

  ‘Will it make a difference?’

  ‘Maybe. Maybe not.’

  ‘Marcus, you’re a newspaperman. You’re not cut out for this sort of thing.’

  ‘Ezra is going to need help. I’m going to do what I can.’

  ‘You may get killed. Have you thought about that?’

  ‘Yes, I have.’

  ‘Then you’re awfully brave, braver than I am.’

  ‘You’re the brave one, Eloise.’

  ‘I’ve never thought of myself as brave. What have I done to be brave?’

  ‘You publish a newspaper. It’s not an easy task. With each issue you run the risk of making someone angry. Like any good publisher, you pursue the truth with a relentless passion. It doesn’t matter if someone gets angry. I admire you.’

  ‘Thank you, Marcus. You should consider publishing a newspaper yourself. You’re not going to stay at the Constitution forever, are you?’

  Marcus leaned against the side of the building and rubbed the toe of his brown shoe in the dust.

  ‘I love Atlanta. I love the Constitution.’

  ‘I can tell that you do.’

  ‘I’m eager to get back. Me – an editor and publisher. That’s an interesting idea. In northwest Georgia there’s a small town called Kingston.’r />
  ‘I haven’t heard of it.’

  ‘It’s between Cartersville and Rome. I grew up there.’

  ‘I’ve heard of Rome.’

  ‘Kingston has a small paper. I’ve known the publisher all my life. He’s an old man named Meade. I told him one day the only other Meade I was aware of was a Yankee general. I thought he was going to fight me. Apparently he didn’t like his name being associated with a Yankee. When he calmed down, he told me he was thinking about selling. He told me this only about a year ago. He told me he would sell it to me. I’ve saved a little money. Kingston is a wonderful little town. Wonderful farming people. Ezra hunts quail on Jekyll Island. He should see the quail we have outside Kingston. When I was young, I was eager to leave Kingston, but I can see myself going back, settling down, and publishing the paper.’

  ‘You should do it. There’s nothing like having your own newspaper.’

  ‘But first I have to return to the Constitution. My editor is expecting a story based on my adventures in Cheyenne.’

  ‘I can’t wait to read it.’

  ‘You’ve never told me how you got into the newspaper business.’

  ‘Marcus, I was born into the newspaper business. My father published a paper in Baltimore. My mother died when I was young. Dad kept me at the paper. I’m sure I often got in the way, but nobody seemed to mind. When I got older, I learned how to set type. I proofread. I sold advertising. I thought that Dad would, at some point, turn over the reins of the paper to me. But he said that, before I ran a big city paper, I needed to run a smalltown paper. So I ended up here in Cheyenne.’

  ‘Do you plan to return to Baltimore?’

  ‘Like your friend, Meade, Dad is getting up in years. Yes, I plan to return. But it will be hard leaving Cheyenne. I’ve come to love this town. It’s still raw around the edges, but it has so much promise.’

  ‘Perhaps you’ll turn it over to Lawrence Byrd.’

  ‘I’ve thought about it. But I don’t think Cheyenne can keep him. He’s a talented writer. He knows how to dig for a story. He’ll probably leave before I do. Marcus, do you have a cigarette? And don’t get a funny look on your face. It is permissible for a woman to smoke if she wants to.’

  He reached into his coat pocket and handed one to her. He struck a match and lit it.

  ‘I would suggest that you come inside and have a glass of bourbon,’ she said, ‘but I guess that’s something you don’t want to do.’

  ‘No, but thanks. I need to stay alert. You see, I’ve never done this sort of thing before.’

  ‘I guess some men get used to it. I don’t see how. Ezra is obviously used to it.’

  ‘It’s not something he enjoys.’

  ‘No, it’s not. That’s why he left the James gang. He was tired of all the killing. It’s possible that he, too, wants to settle down . . . with the woman he loves. The woman he loves, I believe, is Ginevra Swearingen.’

  ‘Why do you say that?’

  ‘When we had dinner at the Swearingen ranch, I saw the way they looked at each other. They knew each other. When I did some research on Ezra, more than one person in Missouri told me that they were lovers. For a time he was unwilling to leave Jesse. He wouldn’t give up the life he was living. She considered it no life at all and she left.’

  ‘That was a long time ago.’

  ‘Love is not measured in time.’

  Marcus turned his attention from the livery to Eloise. She stared across the street but it seemed to Marcus that she really was not looking at anything. Her thoughts had left Cheyenne and for the first time he realized that she cared about Ezra. She inhaled the smoke and released it.

  Riders appeared at a darkened bend in the street well beyond the livery. They rode slowly. The man in the middle was large, as large as a gray granite boulder that had tumbled down a mountainside. Marcus knew at once that it was Swearingen. He counted the others.

  ‘He’s got six gunmen with him,’ Marcus said.

  ‘Maybe they’re not all gunmen.’

  ‘Rest assured, they are.’

  The horsemen grew larger as they rode down the street. They passed the gentlemen’s club and Marcus found it interesting that Swearingen stopped for only a moment and glanced over his shoulder at the building.

  ‘The man next to Swearingen is Rayburn, the foreman,’ Eloise said. ‘He’s a killer. I’m sure that’s the reason Swearingen hired him. From what I’ve learned, Rayburn has wanted to kill Ezra for a long time. This is his chance.’

  ‘Well, he’s ridden a long way for nothing. I have to go back to the jail. Eloise, go into your office and stay there.’

  ‘Marcus, please be careful. Remember your dream that is in Kingston. Don’t let it die here in Cheyenne.’

  Chapter Fifteen

  Smitty struggled to pull open the corral gate and Swearingen and his men led their horses in. They said nothing. Smitty saw the determination. He saw the fury in Swearingen’s face. He recognized Rayburn and Treutlin but not the others. He knew the kind of men Rayburn was hiring. They were not just cowpokes drifting from one ranch to the other. But in their eyes uncertainty shone, and Smitty found it interesting. These men are killers, hired guns, he said to himself. Why should they appear uncertain? Perhaps they had heard they would be facing Ezra McPherson. They had probably never met him, never even seen him. But they had heard about him. They had heard how Ezra stopped a train robbery and killed most of the robbers. They had heard how fast he was with a Colt. That would be enough to make anyone uncertain. The smell of death clung to them.

  ‘We won’t be long,’ Swearingen said.

  ‘I’m not going anywhere.’

  ‘We have some business to attend to. Then we’ll be back. Do you have Andrew’s horse here?’

  If your business involves Ezra McPherson, then you may not be back, Smitty wanted to say.

  ‘Yes, sir, Mr Swearingen. I’ve got her.’

  ‘Go ahead and saddle her.’

  ‘Whatever you say, Mr Swearingen.’

  The men stepped into the street. The loud whistle announced the arrival of the westbound train. Swearingen checked his gold pocket watch and returned it to his vest pocket. The street was empty. The sidewalk was empty. Everybody has heard we’re coming, Swearingen thought. Well, they’ve done the smart thing. They’ve gotten out of the way. He wondered where the sheriff would confront them. Perhaps in the middle of the street. Perhaps at the jailhouse steps. We’ll find out soon enough, he thought. Of course, what does it matter?

  ‘I want it understood,’ he said, ‘there’s to be no shooting unless it’s called for.’

  Rayburn checked the cylinder of his Colt. The other men did the same.

  ‘They’re not going to just hand Andrew over,’ Rayburn said. ‘If you want your son, you’re going to have to fight. They’ll fight to keep him.’

  ‘You heard what I said. If it comes to a fight, then we’ll fight, but only if it’s necessary. When they see how serious we are, I figure they’ll let him go. There’s no point in a bunch of men getting shot up. We don’t have far to walk. I’m not going to stand here all evening talking about it.’

  ‘You’re the boss.’

  Jennifer and Charlotte sat on the sofa in the small parlor and sipped coffee. Bobby was playing in the back yard, probably climbing a tree. Jennifer had tried to discourage him. She had warned him he might fall and break an arm, but he was too much like his father. He was going to do what he wanted to do.

  ‘I’ve always liked a cup of coffee late in the afternoon,’ Charlotte said. ‘There’s just something about it that’s soothing.’

  ‘I’m sure you need something soothing after putting up with Bobby and me all day.’

  ‘It’s wonderful having both of you here. I can’t tell you how good it is to have a child running in and out of the house.’

  ‘You and Silas have been so good. At some point, though, I’m going to have to find a place for us. I don’t want us to become a nuisance.’

  ‘N
onsense. You’re not a nuisance. I’m awfully proud of you.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘What you did last night – helping Doctor Tisdale deliver the baby.’

  ‘I’m just glad I was able to help.’

  ‘You and Doctor Tisdale must work well together.’

  Jennifer shrugged her shoulders.

  ‘You’re not fooling me, young lady,’ Charlotte said.

  The door opened and Silas walked in. Charlotte was surprised. She could not remember a day when he came home from the store this early. She looked at his face and knew something was wrong.

  ‘What is it, Silas?’

  He dropped into the rocking chair near the fireplace. His face was red. Back and forth he rocked. He did not want to upset them. Damn, he thought, there’s no getting around it. The best thing is to go ahead and tell them.

  ‘Old Mose Kittner came into the store a little while ago. You know how he is when he gets excited.’

  ‘Yes, he flaps his arms around like he’s going to take flight, and he stutters so much I can hardly understand a word he says. Why did he go into the store?’

  ‘I guess all the other stores had already closed. He told me Swearingen was riding into town with an army. He said there was going to be trouble. I decided to do what everybody else apparently had done. I closed the store and came on home.’

  ‘What kind of trouble?’ Jennifer asked.

  ‘Swearingen’s youngest son, Andrew, is in jail. It’s a strange thing. Word has it that he turned himself in to the new sheriff. He’s taking responsibility for a lynching. I don’t know too many of the details. Mose said the old man is coming to get him. Swearingen expects Zeke Stuart to release him. I don’t see how that can happen. It seems to me that Judge Henry will have to decide whether he stands trial.’

  ‘You know how Mose exaggerates,’ Charlotte said.

  ‘I doubt that Swearingen is bringing an army,’ Silas said. ‘I’m sure that’s one of Mose’s exaggerations. But I have a feeling Swearingen is coming, and I’m sure he will bring some help.’

  ‘I have to go,’ Jennifer said. ‘Luke is in town.’

  ‘You shouldn’t go into town, Jennifer,’ Silas said. ‘If there is trouble – and there may not be any – you don’t want to get caught up in it. I’m sure Doctor Tisdale will be fine. Stay here. That’s what he would want you to do.’