Julie Garwood - Come the Spring

weapon out of his holster before a bullet stabbed through the palm of

his hand.

Ryan fired at the same time. He shot the gun out of Riley's hand just

as he was bringing his weapon up. The bullet cut through his wrist.

Keeping their guns trained on their targets, the two marshals strode

forward. Ryan reached Riley first. He removed his weapons, ignoring

the man's squeals of agony, and prodded him toward Sheriff Norton's

jail.

Eagle was bellowing like a wounded boar. Much to Cole's frustration,

he wouldn't stand still, but danced around in a gyrating jig.

"You ruined my shooting hand, Clayborne. You ruined my shooting hand,

" he screeched.

"I heard you the first time, " Cole grumbled. "Stand still, damn it.

I'm taking your guns." Eagle wouldn't comply, and Cole quickly tired

of chasing him. He let out a sigh, grabbed hold of the gunslinger by

his collar, and slammed his fist into his jaw, knocking him

unconscious. He continued to hold him up until he'd removed his gun,

then let him drop to the ground.

Gripping the scruff of his neck, he dragged him to Norton.

The sheriff was beaming at the two marshals from the boardwalk. "Guess

I'll have to go get the doc to patch them two up, " he remarked.

"Guess so, " Cole replied.

The sheriff rushed back inside, snatched his keys off the desktop, and

hurried on to unlock two cells. A moment later, the gunfighters were

pushed inside.

There wasn't time for the sheriff's congratulations, for no sooner had

the cell door slammed shut than Ryan was called outside by the

telegraph clerk. When Cole joined him on the boardwalk, one look at

the marshal told Cole something bad had happened. He was surprised

when Ryan handed the wire to him.

Cole read the contents while Ryan gave the news to Sheriff Norton.

"There's been another robbery." His voice was flat.

Norton shook his head. "How many dead this time? " "Seven. will

"Where did it happen? " Norton asked.

"Rockford Falls."

"That ain't far from here. I can tell you how to get there."

"How far is it? " "About forty miles over some rough terrain."

"You might want to keep your eyes open in case any of them pass through

here again. I doubt they will, " Ryan added. "They've already hit

this bank. Cole, are you riding with me? " He shook his head and

handed the wire back to Ryan. "It's not my problem." Ryan said

nothing. Squinting against the sunlight, his eyes narrowed and his

brow wrinkled into a frown. Suddenly he grabbed hold of Cole's vest

and shoved him backward off his feet. Before Cole could recover and

retaliate his fingers were flexing into a fist Ryan stole his thunder

by apologizing.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I let my temper get the upper

hand. Look, you're right. You didn't ask for any of this, and the

robberies aren't your problem. They're mine. I just thought . . .

hoped, anyway . . . that you would want to help. I won't accept your

resignation, though. You're going to have to ride to the regional

office and surrender your badge to the marshal there. Sheriff Norton

will give you the directions. I've got to get going to Rockford Falls

before the trail grows cold. No hard feelings? " he asked as he put

his hand out.

Cole shrugged and shook Ryan's hand. "No hard feelings." Ryan headed

for the stable at a run. Cole watched him leave and then followed the

sheriff inside the jail to find out where in tarnation the regional

office was located.

"If it isn't close-by, I'm sending the badge back, " he told the

sheriff.

Norton sat down heavily behind his desk and stacked his hands on top of

his papers. "I don't think Marshal Ryan will cotton to that idea.

Those badges are considered sacred, son. I wouldn't get him riled up

if I was you. He went to considerable trouble getting you appointed,

and it sure seems peculiar to me that he didn't want to argue with you

a little more. He gave up easy, didn't he? " "I don't know Ryan well

enough to judge, " he replied.

"You sure you want to give the badge up? " "I'm sure. I'm not cut out

to be a lawman."

"You thinking you ought to be a gunslinger? Some folks think there

ain't no difference at all between a marshal and a gunman."

"I'm just a rancher, nothing more."

"Then why are so many gunslingers coming after you? Like it or not,

you got yourself a reputation for being fast. Those boys ain't gonna

quit chasing after glory. It seems to me the only way you can change

your future is to hold on to that badge. Some gunslingers will think

twice before taking on a U. S. marshal."

"Some won't, " Cole argued. "Are you going to tell me where the

regional office is or not? " Norton ignored the question. "I'm gonna

tell the facts to you plain and simple is what I'm gonna do. Marshal

Ryan didn't nag you into doing the right thing, so I guess I ought to,

and you're gonna have to be polite and listen to me because I'm old

enough to be your father and age gives me the advantage. We got us a

terrible problem with this Blackwater gang running over our territory,

and since you happen to live inside the boundaries, I'd say it was your

problem too. Not too long ago our little bank got robbed and we lost

us some good friends. They were decent, law-abiding folks who just had

the bad luck of being inside the bank at the time. Every one of them

was killed like a dog. We had us a witness too. His name was Luke

MacFarland, but he didn't last long.

" "Sheriff, I'm sorry about what happened, but I don't" Norton cut him

off. "Luke got shot up when the robbery was going on, and he wasn't

even inside the bank at the time. He was just passing by on the

boardwalk, which was another piece of bad luck all right. Still, the

doc had him mending. He would have recovered the doc said so and he

did see a couple of faces through the crack in the shades of the

bank.

He would have made a good witness when those no-good bastards got

caught."

"What happened to him? " "Luke got his neck sliced like a bow tie,

that's what happened to him.

His wife got cut too. They were both sleeping in their bed, but I

think maybe one of them woke up. You should have seen that room,

son.

There was more blood than paint on those walls. I ain't never gonna

forget it.

Their little boys saw it too. The oldest, just ten last month,

found them. He ain't never gonna be the same." The story struck a

nerve deep inside Cole. He leaned against the side of the desk, his

gaze directed outside, as he thought about the children. What a hell

of a nightmare for a child to see. What would happen to that little

boy now) Or the other ones? Who would take care of them? How would

they survive? Would they be split up and shipped to various relatives,

or would they take to the streets, the way he had when he was a

youngster? Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Ryan on a black

horse riding at a gallop down the main street. He hoped the marshal

would catch the monsters who had made those children orphans. In one

night, their lives had been changed forever.

He turned back when the sheriff spoke again. "There was no call to

kill those two, no call at all. You know what Ryan said? " "No,

what's that? " Cole asked.

"That it was a miracle they didn't kill those little boys. If one of

them had come into the room while they were butchering, they would have

killed him for sure . . . the others too."