Bounty Hunter

CHAPTER 21

Wolford had been so angry when he drove away Luke wouldn’t have been surprised if problems started cropping up right away. But several days passed with no sign of the carpetbagger or his hired guns.

Linus Peabody reported the Harkness family on the neighboring farm had packed up and moved away, abandoning the place because they couldn’t pay the exorbitant taxes being demanded by the Reconstruction government. Another worried neighbor had come by the farm and told Peabody about it, adding that the sheriff was going to auction off the Harkness farm in Dobieville on Saturday.

Luke knew Vincent Wolford would win that auction at a rock-bottom price. And he would probably get some of the money back from the sheriff and the judge in the form of a kickback.

The idea of Emily going out to work in the fields with her grandfather worried Luke. If Wolford’s gunnies showed up, intent on causing trouble, Peabody wouldn’t be able to protect her. In his current condition, Luke couldn’t watch over them, so he made up his mind the best thing for him to do was improve as much and as quickly as he could.

With that determination goading him on, he worked with his legs for long hours each day while Emily and her grandfather were gone. He put more and more weight on his own muscles, forcing them to move and carry him, not just support him.

Back and forth across the cabin’s main room he shuffled endlessly, using the crutches. Eventually he was able to take a step, then several steps, without touching the floor with the crutches, although he held them ready to catch himself if he fell.

Those efforts made his legs ache almost intolerably, but he welcomed the pain, even embraced it. To have his legs hurt was so much better than to have them feel nothing at all.

By the time a week had passed since Wolford and his gunmen had shown up at the farm, Luke was able to take actual steps as he walked across the room, no longer sliding his feet in a shuffling manner. He left the crutches behind and walked on his own, something that had seemed utterly impossible a few months ago. His gait was slow and halting, to be sure, and he told himself with a wry smile that he was a long way from being able to dance a jig, but he was getting there.

He was getting there, all right, and it was the best pain he had ever felt, although he sometimes had to bite his lip to keep from crying out when Emily massaged his legs.

It wasn’t long before she noticed the change in his legs. “These muscles are definitely harder and stronger than they were. You’re gonna walk again one of these days, Luke. You just wait and see.”

“Thanks to you, I am,” he told her. Without the way she had kept him going through his darkest days and nights, and without the determination his fear for her safety gave him, he might not have ever walked again. Soon he was going to be ready to reveal his secret to her.

A little later, when Peabody caught a moment alone with him, the old-timer said, “I spotted them fellas who work for Wolford watchin’ the place again today.”

Luke hated to hear that, but he wasn’t surprised. He had known better than to hope Wolford would give up on getting his hands on the farm. Even worse was knowing the man wanted to get his hands on Emily. He had hinted as much when he visited the farm, and Luke had seen the unmistakable lust in the carpetbagger’s eyes when Wolford looked at her.

“Why don’t I start going out to the fields with you and Emily during the day?” Luke had discarded that idea a week earlier but was beginning to think it might work.

“On your crutches?” Peabody asked with a frown.

“No, you can help me climb into the wagon, and I’ll sit up there and keep an eye on things while you’re working. We can take along the rifle and my revolver. I can handle a gun just fine.”

Peabody scratched his stubbly jaw and shrugged. “That ain’t a bad idea.”

The next day they put it into practice, even though Emily was insistent on knowing why Luke was coming with them.

“Wolford’s men have been watchin’ us again,” Peabody admitted.

“Oh, them? Shoot, I saw them before. They don’t scare me.”

“Well, they scare me, and they ought to scare you, too,” Peabody insisted. “They’re bad men, and the fella they work for is even worse. We got trouble on the horizon.”

It was even closer than they suspected.

With help from Peabody and Emily, Luke climbed to the wagon seat and they went out to the fields. He wished he could help them harvest the late summer corn crop. Unfortunately, his legs weren’t yet steady enough. Instead, he scanned the surrounding countryside for any sign of Wolford’s men without spotting them.

The sound of shots made Emily cry out in alarm and Luke twist around on the seat to peer toward the cabin.

The shots continued from that direction as Emily and Peabody dropped what they were doing and ran to the wagon. Peabody scrambled up to the seat and jerked the reins loose from the brake lever while Emily practically threw herself into the back. Even the normally stubborn mules sensed something was wrong. They broke into a run as Peabody headed them toward the cabin.

Breathing hard, Emily leaned over the back of the seat between the two men. “What are they doin’?” she asked anxiously. “What’s all that shootin’ about?”

“We’ll know in a minute.” Luke gripped the rifle tightly. It was only a single-shot weapon, but the revolver in his pocket was fully loaded.

The shooting stopped before they came in sight of the cabin. As they did, Luke caught a glimpse of several riders galloping away from the place. They were already too far off for him to make out any details, but was willing to bet they were the three hired guns who worked for Vincent Wolford.

“No!” Emily cried as her grandfather wheeled the wagon into the open area between the cabin and the barn. Limp, bloody bundles of feathers were scattered around on the ground. The chickens had been blasted to pieces. In the pen over by the barn, the hogs lay motionless in the mud.

Emily leaped out of the wagon and ran into the barn. When she came back a moment later, tears were running down her cheeks. “They killed the milk cow, too. Looks like they just shot everything that moved.”

“Why in blazes would they do that?” Peabody asked furiously. “It aggravates the hell out of me, but losin’ those animals ain’t enough to ruin the farm.”

“This is just the opening gambit,” Luke said. “Think of it as a warning. Wolford wants to let you know it’ll get a lot worse if you don’t give him what he wants.”

“Never! I’m goin’ to town and swearin’ out a complaint against the varmints! The sheriff’s got to do somethin’. He’s supposed to uphold the law around here.”

“The sheriff works for Wolford and that judge of his and the rest of the Yankees,” Emily said bitterly. “He’s not gonna do anything, Grampaw.”

“We don’t know that. If nobody ever speaks up, nothin’ will change around here!”

The old-timer was right about that, Luke supposed. But like Emily, he didn’t think complaining to the law would do any good. They would never know if they didn’t try, though. “We’ll all go to Dobieville. Maybe round up some of your friends and neighbors who’ve had trouble with the carpetbaggers and take them with you. If more people are speaking up, the men in charge will have a harder time ignoring them.”

Peabody nodded. “That’s a good idea.”

“Not as good an idea as goin’ to town and shootin’ that snake Wolford for tellin’ his men to do this,” Emily said.

It might come to that, Luke thought, but we have to try reason first . . . then bullets.

Peabody spent the rest of the day visiting his neighbors and putting together a delegation to complain to the sheriff in Dobieville. The killing of his livestock wasn’t the first such outrage in the area. Barns had burned down mysteriously, crops had been trampled on dark nights, wells had been fouled, and cattle had been run off.

Nor would that harassment stop, Luke thought. In fact, he expected it to escalate into outright violence in fairly short order. Wolford and the other carpetbaggers were not patient men.

The farmers rendezvoused outside town and rode in on mules and in wagons and buggies. Some of them walked. A few had brought their wives and children with them, something Luke thought probably wasn’t wise. A group about forty strong converged on the sheriff’s office.

Their arrival in town stirred up enough of a commotion the lawman heard them coming. He stepped out onto the porch of his office to wait for them. He was a middle-aged man with thinning brown hair and a mustache. A gun belt was strapped around his waist, and he carried a shotgun in addition to the holstered revolver.

“Fella’s name is Royce Wilkes,” Peabody explained to Luke as they approached in the wagon. “Used to be a deputy here, but he was too fond of corn liquor. The old sheriff ran him off. When the war was over, the Yankees put him back in office and gave him the sheriff’s job. He’s local, but he’s in the back pocket of them no-good carpetbaggers.”

Wilkes had the shotgun cradled in his left arm. He held up his right hand for silence and called, “All right, what the devil’s goin’ on here?”

Everyone in the group turned to look at Linus Peabody. He had talked them into coming, and they regarded him as their spokesman.

“Sheriff, we’re all here to lodge complaints against Vincent Wolford and those fellas who work for him,” Peabody said. “I beg pardon of the ladies in earshot of my voice, but Wolford’s men have been raisin’ hell hereabouts, and it’s gotta stop.”

“You know for a fact that what you’re sayin’ is true, Linus?” Wilkes asked.

“I do,” Peabody replied with a forceful nod. “They came out to my place yesterday and shot all my chickens and hogs and my milk cow. We seen ’em ridin’ off after they done it.”

Luke and Emily nodded. In reality the riders had been too far away for a positive identification, but there was no question in Luke’s mind that Wolford’s men were responsible.

“Well, that’s a mighty serious charge,” Wilkes said.

Another man in the crowd said, “That ain’t all they’ve done. My barn burned down last week, and I know good and well somebody set that fire. I rode into town and told you all about it, Royce.”

“You did,” Wilkes said, “but you also told me you didn’t see who done it.”

“It had to be Wolford’s men! You know that!”

“I’m a lawman,” Wilkes boasted, his chest puffing out pompously. “I got to have proof. And somebody thinkin’ they saw something ain’t proof.”

“Are you callin’ us liars?” Peabody demanded.

“I’m sayin’ maybe you were mistaken.”

Luke suggested, “Why don’t you at least ask Wolford about it? See if he can account for the whereabouts of his men yesterday when Mr. Peabody’s livestock was being slaughtered.”

Wilkes shook his head stubbornly. “I ain’t gonna bother an important man like Mr. Wolford—”

“It’s no bother,” a new voice said.

Everyone swung around to look. The crowd parted, and Vincent Wolford himself sauntered up to the porch.

“I heard there was a gathering of some sort and decided to come see for myself what it was about,” Wolford went on. “I’d be glad to answer any questions you have for me, Sheriff.”

“I don’t have any questions,” Wilkes said.

“I do,” Peabody snapped. “Did you send your men to kill my livestock, mister?”

Wolford gave a solemn shake of his head. “Of course not, Mr. Peabody. Why in the world would I do a thing like that?”

“To try to run me off so you can grab my land!”

“I wanted to make you a fair offer for your land, but you wouldn’t even consider it,” Wolford said. “As far as I’m concerned, our business is over.”

“Where were your men yesterday morning?” Luke asked.

“Burnett, Howell, and Prentice?” Wolford shrugged. “I’m not sure. I don’t keep track of their whereabouts every hour of the day. As long as they do the jobs I give them, that’s all I really care about.”

“Did you give them any jobs yesterday?”

“As a matter of fact, I didn’t.” Wolford smiled. “I didn’t even speak to them. So you see, even if there was anything to these ludicrous accusations—and I assure you, there isn’t—I can’t be held responsible for them.”

Wilkes nodded. “Looks like that clears it all up. Sorry to bother you, Mr. Wolford.”

“Oh, it’s no bother, Sheriff, I assure you. All I want to do is carry on my business and get along with my neighbors.”

Wilkes turned back to the farmers. “You’ve said your piece, now it’s time for all of you to go back home and stop botherin’ folks.”

“Are you runnin’ us out of town?” Peabody asked. “Don’t we still have a right to go where we please?”

“No, you don’t,” Wilkes snapped. “Gatherin’ up in mobs like this is against the law. So if you don’t break it up and leave, it’ll be my duty to arrest you . . . and I’ll get the soldiers to help me, if I need to.”

“You’d better do what he says, Linus,” Luke told the old-timer.

“You mean let them get away with it?” Emily asked.

“Getting arrested isn’t going to help anything.”

Peabody scowled darkly, but he said, “All right, we’ll go. But this ain’t over, Sheriff. We’ll get justice somehow.”

“You step out of line and you’ll be sorry,” Wilkes warned.

With a lot of angry muttering, the crowd turned to leave town. As the wagon rolled past the last buildings, Emily said, “Like I told you, nothin’s gonna change.”

“At least Wolford knows we’re on to him,” Peabody said. “He’s the one who’s really to blame for everything.”

“And all he’s gonna do is laugh at us,” Emily said as her shoulders slumped in despair.

If that’s all that happens, Luke thought, then we might be lucky. Wolford’s smooth façade had never budged, but he had to be angry that the farmers had banded together to complain about his tactics. Luke wouldn’t be at all surprised if he decided to teach them a lesson.

And if he did, it would be a painful one. Luke was sure of that.