Читать книгу North of Laramie - William W. Johnstone - Страница 9

CHAPTER 4

It was just after nine in the morning when the Bowman family rode into Wichita. All twenty of them rode down Main Street, four lines of five horses across.

Matt Bowman was in the lead. He wasn’t an especially big man, for none of the men in the Bowman line ran big, but like his kinsmen, he was lean and solid. He had fought on the side of the Union in the late War Between the States, receiving a field commission of captain. He had brought the same leadership he had shown on the battlefield home with him after the surrender and helped his father build the BF brand into one of the most prosperous and respected in Kansas.

A man like that could not be expected to take the deaths of two of his own kindly, even if they were only cousins and troublesome cousins at that. With his father being unable to ride any more, Matt was aware that it was up to him to defend the Bowman name now. That name meant something only as long as the family was willing to fight to keep it that way. And Matt Bowman was not known as a man to back away from a fight.

Matt brought his horse to a rough halt in front of The Gilded Lilly and tied up to the hitching post in front of the saloon. His nineteen other relatives followed his lead. He did not wait for them as he stormed up the steps and pushed his way into the saloon.

Never one given to drink or tobacco, he almost gagged on the stench of stale tobacco smoke and spilled rotgut. He swallowed the bile that rose in his throat as he looked around for any sign of the drunkard Hagen, that murdering giant Trammel or the woman who employed him, Miss Lilly.

He found most of the tables empty, with only a few old timers playing cards at the far end of the dimly lit saloon.

As his relatives began to pile in behind him, Matt yelled, “I’m here for Buck Trammel or that wench that hired him, Miss Lilly. Or the drunken gambler who goes by the name Hagen. I’ll see them now, or, by God, me and mine will burn this hellhole to the ground!”

“No, you won’t,” came a voice from the shadows.

Matt peered in the direction from where the voice had come, but could only barely make out the outline of a man. The broad brimmed hat and the coat he wore were as dark as the shadow he sat in, but the dull glint of the star on his chest told Matt who he was. “That you, Earp?”

The man looked up from his white coffee mug. “It is. And you’re interrupting my coffee.”

“I don’t give a damn about your coffee, boy. I came to see about my dead kin.”

“You’ll find William and Tyler over at the mortician where their earthly remains are being tended to as we speak. You can collect them any time you’d like.”

“There’ll be time enough for the dead,” Matt said. “Right now, I’m here to talk to the people who made them that way, namely that damned Trammel and that damned drunk Hagen.”

Earp sipped his coffee. “They’re not here. And you’re disturbing the peace.”

The iciness of the deputy’s tone almost made him shiver. “What about Miss Lilly?”

“She’s not receiving visitors at this time. She’s had quite a night.”

“She’s had quite a night? What about my kin? Will and Tyler are dead.”

“And they’re at the mortuary waiting for you to bring them home where they belong. I already told you that. I won’t tell you again. Best see about your business and leave the rest alone.”

Matt took a few steps into the saloon. His relatives moved with him. “You protecting those boys, Earp?”

“Not mine to protect. They’ve left town.”

“What?” Matt had to steady himself on a chair, his rage and sadness almost overwhelming him. “You mean you let them leave? After what they done?”

“Had nothing to hold them on. What happened here was fair and legal. I’ve got almost a dozen statements on my desk back at the jail attesting to that fact. I’ll let you read them if you’d like, once you’ve had time to grieve over your losses.”

“My losses?” The words hardly made sense to him. “My losses? We’re not talking about a bunch of horses who’ve run off or have been stolen, Earp. We’re talking about the murder of two young men cut down in their prime by a murdering giant and a drunken gambler.”

“The gambler had nothing to do with it. And they disobeyed Trammel’s order to leave. They attacked him and got killed for their trouble. Serves them right for going up against a man damned near twice their size.” He brought his mug to his lips. “I told you to go collect your dead. I won’t tell you again.”

“Not before I’ve had a word with Miss Lilly.”

A chair scraping against wood pierced the darkness as Earp stood. “I said no.”

Matt felt his neck begin to redden. He had always tried to have respect for the law as far as it went, but in the face of his own dead, that respect didn’t go far. “Now see here, Earp. You and your brother might have that old ninny Meagher buffaloed, but I’m no old ninny. You’re only one against twenty and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll get out of the way and let us get answers on our own.”

Suddenly, quietly, Earp strode out of the darkness and stood less than a foot from Matt. The rancher flinched and took a step back despite his intention to hold his ground.

Earp didn’t move, not even a twitch. His flat blue eyes were locked on Matt until Bowman found himself taking still another backward step.

“I know you’re grieving, so this one time, I’ll repeat myself. You’re not going to bother Miss Lilly. You’re not going to kill Trammel or Hagen or anyone else. You’re going to collect your dead and bring them home for the Christian funeral they deserve. And when you’ve had a chance to mourn, you’ll come see me in the jail and I’ll prove what happened here. Until then, you have to leave town. All of you. Right now.”

Matt held his ground, his fading resolve beginning to weaken even further under Earp’s glare, until his cousin Walt Bowman said, “Damn you, Earp. You can’t stop us.”

But Earp’s eyes never left Matt’s. “Looks like I already have. Go. Now.”

Matt jerked his head up, trying to save some semblance of pride in front of his people. “We’ll collect our dead and bury them. But someone’s going to answer for this, Earp. Someone’s going to answer for this damned soon.”

He turned and pushed his way through his relatives. The rest of the Bowman family filed out after him, Walt last among them.

Earp stood where he was until the last of them rode away, then sat back down at the table and finished his coffee.