William Johnstone - Bounty Hunter

Luke nodded. After everything Linus Peabody had done for him, he didn’t want to offend the old-timer.

Peabody hurried in a short time later, all right, as Emily had predicted. He wore a worried expression on his face, and it quickly became obvious the last thing on his mind was who was sparking his granddaughter. “There’s a buggy and some riders comin’.” He reached for the rifle hanging on the wall near the door.

“Yankee soldiers again?” Emily asked, her body tensing as she stood next to the stove where she had started supper.

Peabody shook his head as he checked to make sure the rifle was loaded.

“Nope. It’s that fella Wolford, and unless I miss my guess, the men he’s got with him are hired guns.”

CHAPTER 20

“Get my revolver,” Luke told Emily.

“What’re you thinkin’ about doin’?” She looked at her grandfather. “What are the both of you thinkin’ about doin’?”

“Nothin’ we don’t have to,” Peabody told her. “Could be Wolford just wants to talk. If he does, I’ll listen to him. Won’t do him any good, but I’ll listen.”

“Is this about the folks who have been losin’ their farms to the carpetbaggers?”

Peabody frowned. “You know about that?”

“How the hell could I not know about it?” Emily blurted out. “It’s the only thing folks all over this part of the country are talkin’ about!”

“I need my revolver,” Luke said again. He was trying to stay calm, but the same tense feelings he had experienced before every battle were going through him. He might soon be fighting for his life, and the lives of Emily and her grandfather as well.

But that wasn’t exactly likely, he told himself, not just yet, anyway. From what Peabody had said about Wolford’s attempt to take over Bud Harkness’s farm, the carpetbagger was using quasi-legal means in his land grabs, relying on corrupt judges and what passed for the law under Yankee occupation.

Wolford would have hired guns in reserve, though, and if he couldn’t get what he wanted peacefully, he would use force to take it. Luke had no doubt about that.

He looked intently at Emily until she sighed and went to the cabinet where the Griswold and Gunnison revolver was kept. She took it out and brought it over to Luke. “I can use this gun.”

He held out his hand. “You need to stay inside.”

A quick flash of anger lit up her eyes. “Luke—”

“Luke’s right,” Peabody said. “You stay in the house, girl, like you did when the Yankees came.”

“Men!” she said in exasperation. “You’re the most stubborn critters on God’s green earth!”

Luke stuck the revolver in the pocket of his overalls and grasped his crutches. “That’s because we’re raised by women to be that way.” With a smile, he lifted himself to his feet.

She still looked mad, but rested a hand on his arm for a second. “Don’t start trouble with them.”

“I don’t intend to start trouble with anybody,” Luke assured her. He didn’t say anything about finishing it, if things came down to that. He looked out through the door Peabody had left open. “Here they come.”

“Be careful,” Emily whispered to Luke. “We just . . .”

She didn’t finish, but he knew what she meant. They had just admitted how they felt about each other. She didn’t want him going and getting himself killed.

Luke didn’t want that, either. He nodded to show her he understood as much.

Peabody went out onto the porch. Luke followed him, moving fairly easily on the crutches. He wished he could have walked out there bold as brass, but that was something for the future if his legs continued to improve.

With a clatter of hoofbeats and wheels, Vincent Wolford drove his buggy up to the cabin and brought the vehicle to a halt, reining in the two fine black horses pulling it. Luke found himself wondering who those horses used to belong to, and how Wolford had gotten his hands on them. He was willing to bet the carpetbagger hadn’t bought them fair and square.

Three men on horseback accompanied Wolford. As they reined in, Luke studied them. Back home he had seen Jayhawkers from Kansas on several occasions, and these men reminded him of those ruthless guerrillas.

One wore a derby and a flashy eastern suit. He was big, with broad shoulders and a rough-hewn face dominated by a rusty handlebar mustache. His hands were huge, with knobby knuckles broken more than once in various brawls. He wasn’t carrying a gun that was visible, but Luke figured there was probably a revolver in a shoulder holster under that tweed coat.

The other two riders were dressed more like frontiersmen in boots, work clothes, and broad-brimmed hats. They wore their guns out in the open, carrying holstered pistols on their hips. They had rugged, hard-planed faces and cold eyes.

Luke knew all three men were probably killers, paid by Vincent Wolford to enforce his will and help him take what he wanted. They would be fast on the draw. If Linus Peabody raised his rifle, one or more of the gunmen would drill him before he got a shot off.

Luke was pretty handy with a gun, but knew he wasn’t a match for those three. Not with the Griswold and Gunnison stuck in his pocket. If he had a regular gun rig and a pair of revolvers, he might manage to down a couple, maybe all three, but they would get lead in him, too.

It wasn’t going to come to that. He couldn’t allow the carpetbaggers to kill him and Peabody, leaving Emily at their mercy.

“Take it easy,” he said under his breath to Peabody. “Stay calm.”

The old man nodded, but the tense way he stood and the urgency with which he gripped the rifle told a different story. He was ready to fight. He wanted to fight.

Luke levered himself forward on his crutches, putting himself between Peabody and the buggy. He nodded to Wolford. “Howdy. What brings you out here from town?”

“Mr. Smith, isn’t it?” Wolford asked with that phony smile of his, without getting down from the buggy. “I came to speak with Mr. Peabody there. I have a business proposition for him.”

Peabody moved up even with Luke. “I ain’t interested in doin’ business with the likes of you.”

“You should hear me out,” Wolford said. “That’s just a smart rule of thumb. Always listen to the other fellow’s proposal. You never know when he might offer something you want.”

Peabody glared darkly at the visitors, but after a moment he nodded. “I’ll listen. I don’t reckon it’s very likely you got anything I want, though.”

“You might be surprised. What I’m proposing, Mr. Peabody, is that I take this farm off your hands for a very reasonable price.”

“Why in blazes would I want to sell?” Peabody snapped.

“Well, the market for cotton, tobacco, and other crops is very depressed right now. You can’t hope to make very much for them.”

“We’ll get by,” the old man said.

“Yes, perhaps, but you can do even better somewhere else. I hear people are having phenomenal success migrating to the frontier. There are millions of acres out there just ripe for the taking.”

“This is my home. I’ve lived on this land all my life, and my pa lived here before me. I intend to stay until the Good Lord calls me home.”

Wolford’s smile didn’t budge, but Luke thought he saw impatience growing in the man’s eyes.

“You can do that,” Wolford said, “but you’d still be wise to sell out to me. If you don’t want to leave, you can always stay and work the land on shares.”

“Why in the Sam Hill would I want to do that?”

“You wouldn’t have all the worries of dealing with the new government. I’d handle all that. You could just work the land the way you always have.”