Texas Iron

Chapter Seventeen

In the morning Evan and Jubal told Sam about the incident as they walked to the Miller house for breakfast.

“Well, it sounds like we won’t be gettin’ any information from Johnny Burkett in the future,” Sam observed.

“I guess not,” Jubal said.

“Evan,” Sam said, “you get the feelin’ that we might all be targets now, instead of just me?”

“From what Jubal told me, John Burkett was just upset that he’d been fooled. I don’t think he and the other men came to town looking for one of us.”

Sam nodded. He felt the same way, but wanted to see how Evan felt.

“Jube?” He spoke to Jubal as an afterthought, not wanting to offend him by not asking his opinion. He had long since stopped thinking of his younger brother as just a boy.

“I agree, Sam.”

“Then we’re all agreed.”

When Serena admitted them to the house she frowned at Jubal and said, “What happened to your lip?”

The three brothers exchanged glances and then decided to tell her about the incident.

“Where’s your father?” Sam asked.

“In the kitchen.”

“Let’s go in there.”

Sam didn’t want to have to explain it to her and then repeat it to Dude Miller.

They had been able to smell breakfast cooking as soonas they entered. In the kitchen the smell of frying food was stronger still, and they all experienced hunger pangs of one degree or another.

“You could have been seriously hurt,” she said to Jubal afterward.

“Evan got there in plenty of time.”

Evan could tell from the look on her face what she was thinking. If not for two kisses, he might have been there before Jubal could be hurt, at all.

“Everything turned out all right,” Sam said. “Let’s talk about something else.”

“You have something in mind?” Evan asked as they seated themselves at the table.

“Yeah,” Sam said. “I’m goin’ out to see Lincoln Burkett today.”

“What?” Jubal said.

“That’s madness!” Serena said.

“Do you think that’s wise?” Dude Miller asked.

Evan looked at his older brother and said, “Do you want me to go with you?”

“No,” Sam said, “I’ll go alone.”

“Why go at all?” Serena asked.

To the room at large Sam said, “I’m tired of being shot at and chased. If Burkett wants me dead I figure to give him a chance to do it himself.”

“And if he tries?” Serena asked.

Nobody answered and Jubal finally said, “Sam will defend himself.”

“And if he doesn’t try?”

This time Sam answered.

“Maybe it’ll force his hand.”

“Meaning what?” she asked. “That he’ll finally send Coffin after you?”

“Maybe.”

“That’s what you want, isn’t it?” she said to Sam, angrily.

“You want to stand out there in the street with Coffin and see who’s best!”

“I want to get this over with,” Sam said. “I want to find out once and for all if Burkett killed our folks for what was on their land.”

“What’s on their land?” Dude Miller asked.

The McCalls had not yet confided to the Millers what they had discovered.

“We think there’s oil on the land, Dude,” Evan said.

“Oil?”

Sam told Miller about what he found, and about the geologist.

“Lord almighty,” Miller said, “no wonder Burkett wanted that land—but your father couldn’t have known, else why would he have given it up?”

“That’s something we still have to find out,” Sam said.

“And what happens if you find out that Burkett didn’t kill your parents?” Serena asked.

“That would mean someone else did,” Sam said.

“And we’d have to find whoever did,” Evan added.

“And what about Burkett?” Serena asked. “Does that mean you’d forget about him? I mean, if it turns out he didn’t kill them, and he didn’t force the land from them, would that be the end of things with him?”

The brother exchanged glances and then Evan said, “We don’t know, Serena.”

“Serena,” Dude Miller said, “if Burkett didn’t kill their folks, then they don’t have any business with him.”

“The town—”

“We’d be back where we started, honey,” Miller said.

“Us against Burkett.”

“And we’ll lose,” Serena said, twisting a dish towel in her hands. “I’d rather just pick up and leave than go on fighting, Papa.”

“Why don’t we wait and see what happens before you decide to leave?” Evan said.

“Sure,” Serena said, throwing her towel down to the floor, “wait until one, or two, or all of you are dead. That’s when it will be over.”

She stalked out of the room then, leaving the four men speechless.

“I’ll get that food off the stove before it burns,” Dude Miller said.

Jubal walked Sam to the livery, while Evan stayed at the house with Serena. Dude Miller walked with them as far as his store.

“Don’t be too hard on Serena, Sam,” he said before they parted company. “She’s grown very fond of the three of you, and she doesn’t want to see anything happen to you.”

“I don’t hold that against her, Dude,” Sam said. “I just hope she understands what we have to do, and why we can’t walk away from it.”

“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see about that,”

Miller said, and entered his store.

Sam and Jubal proceeded to the livery, where Swede brought out Sam’s coyote dun.

“I wish you’d let me ride with you,” Jubal said as Sam mounted up, “at least part of the way.”

“I’ll do this alone, Jubal,” Sam said.

“Why do you have to do it alone?”

“Because this is what I do, Jube,” Sam said. “This is what I do.”

Coffin was looking out his window when Sam rode by, heading out of town. He had a feeling he knew where Sam McCall was going. Hell, if he was in McCall’s shoeshe might not have waited this long to confront Lincoln Burkett. Evan McCall’s visit to Burkett hadn’t accomplished anything. Maybe Sam McCall’s visit would stir things up some.

Coffin decided maybe he’d take himself a little ride as well.

As Sam rode up to Burkett’s house he attracted the attention of the men at the corral, the men in front of the barn, and a couple of men who were on the porch.

One of the men on the porch was Chuck Conners.

When he spotted Sam McCall riding up he turned away from the man he was talking to and descended the steps to wait for him.

“Don’t bother dismounting, McCall,” Conners said.

“You ain’t wanted here.”

“I want to talk to Burkett.”

“He don’t want to talk to you.”

“Why don’t you let him make up his own mind about that?”

“I’m the foreman around here,” Conners said. “I make most of the decisions around here.”

“Not this one.”

“Now look—”

“Are you prepared to keep me from seein’ your boss, Conners?”

“I am.”

“Well then, get to it.”

“What?”

“I said get to it,” Sam said. “Go for your gun.”

There were eight or ten men watching the proceedings now, and Conners’ eyes flicked right and left, taking in that fact.

“Now wait—” he said.

“You think you can stop me?” Sam asked. “But, you see, I intend to see your boss, and—”

“I—I got enough men here to stop you.”

Sam took a moment to look around. Most of the men who were watching were wearing sidearms.

“You sure do have enough’this time.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you’ve tried sendin’ seven men after me, and then eight. Now you’ve got about eleven, countin’ yourself. Maybe you’ll do it this time, but there’s one thing you should know.”

“What’s that?”

“If I only get off one shot, it’ll go right into your brain. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred that’s a fatal shot. How do you feel about those odds, Conners?”

Chuck Conners stared at Sam McCall, then looked around at his men, who were waiting for him to call the play.

“Come on, Conners,” Sam said. “Make a play or tell your boss I’m here.”

There was a tense moment while Conners weighed his options, but he was saved from having to make the final decision.

“He doesn’t have to tell me you’re here, McCall,” Lincoln Burkett said. He was standing in the open front doorway. “I can see that for myself.”

“You willin’ to talk to me, Burkett, or are you gonna call the play here?”

“Oh, I’ll call the play, all right, McCall,” Burkett said, “when the time comes. I think you’ve killed quite enough of my men. Chuck, let him by.”

“But boss—”

“Let him come in. I want to talk to him.”

Sam dismounted and handed his reins to a startled manstanding nearby. He brushed past Conners and climbed the steps. He heard Conners beginning to climb the steps behind him.

“Not you, Chuck,” Burkett said. “I’ll see Mr. McCall alone.”

“Boss, I don’t think—”

“Don’t worry,” Burkett said as Sam McCall reached him, “I’ll be safe enough, won’t I, McCall?”

“That depends on you, Burkett,” Sam said, and slipped past him into the house.

Sam knew the way to Burkett’s office. Evan had told him which room it was. He was waiting there for Burkett, already sitting in front of the man’s desk.

“I see you’ve made yourself at home,” Burkett said, moving around to the other side of his desk. “Can I offer you a drink?”

“No.”

“Let’s get to it, then,” Burkett said. “Why are you here?”

“Like you say,” Sam said, “I’ve killed enough of your men. I think it’s time for you to try and kill me yourself.”

Burkett laughed.

“Why would I want to do that?”

“Either you kill me,” Sam said, “or tell me what happened to my parents.”

“I intend to do neither,” Burkett said. “Actually, I won’t do the first, and I can’t do the second because I know nothing about it.”

“That’s bull.”

“That might be what you think,” Burkett said. “I’ll tell you the truth, the sheriff questioned me after your parents were found.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Well, we had only made the deal for his ranch a month before. I guess the sheriff felt that was sufficient—”

“That’s more bull,” Sam said, interrupting him. “You own the sheriff, just as sure as you own the whorehouse and whatever other businesses you own.”

“Who told you I own the whorehouse?”

Sam smiled.

“It’s a badly kept secret, Burkett,” Sam said, “but never mind. I think you should know I’ve sent for a federal marshal.”

“You…have?” Burkett’s face betrayed him for just an instant. He didn’t like the idea of a federal marshal poking his nose in his business. “When will he be arriving?”

“Soon,” Sam said, “very soon.”

“And what do you expect him to accomplish?”

“Once he looks at the evidence I’ve put together, I expect him to arrest the killers of my parents.”

“Evidence?”

Sam stood up.

“I haven’t been here all this time without accomplishing something, Burkett.”

“And your brothers?”

“They don’t know what I have,” Sam said. “I’m tryin’ to protect them.”

“That’s admirable,” Burkett said. “A man should take care of his family.”

“I’m glad you feel that way, Burkett,” Sam said, moving toward the door, “because that’s exactly what I’ve been trying to do all along—and what I’ll continue to do. Uh, before I go, are you sure you wouldn’t like to try for that gun in your desk?”

Burkett’s eyes momentarily flitted to the desk drawer where he kept his gun.

“Uh, no, I don’t think so.”

“That’s a pity,” Sam said, and left.

Outside he found that the men who had gathered to watch him and Conners face off had not yet dispersed.

Even Conners was still there. The man he’d given his horse to was still holding the reins, and he took them back.

“Thank you.”

“Did you accomplish anything?” Conners asked.

From astride his horse Sam looked down at the man and said, “I got done what I came to get done. Ask your boss about it. He’ll tell you. In fact, I think he wants to see you.”

Sam wheeled his horse around and rode away from the house, leaving behind a bunch of puzzled men and one very confused foreman.

“I was going to send for you,” Burkett said when Conners entered.

“McCall said you wanted to see me.”

“He did, eh?”

“Uh, do you want to—”

“Yes, yes, of course I do,” Burkett said. “Close the damned door.”

Conners did so and moved closer to the desk.

“What did he say?”

“He said he had evidence.”

“He can’t.”

“I know,” Burkett said, “but he also said he’s sent for a federal marshal.”

“That must be what he was doing in the telegraph office that day.”

“If I ever find out who was behind that…” Burkett trailed off. “The man has killed eight of my men, Chuck…eight! And now he’s got federal law coming in.”

“What do you want done?”

Burkett took a long moment to light a cigar to his satisfaction. He was regarding the glowing tip when he finally said, “Get Coffin.”