CHAPTER 15
“Since when do you throw a man behind bars for acting in self-defense?” Justine York demanded.
“You weren’t there,” Sheriff Banning barked right back at her. “How do you know what happened when he shot Jack Draper?”
“Because a whole saloonful of men are saying that’s the way it was. Just because you’re turning a deaf ear to their claims, I’m not! I can hear loud and clear what they’re saying.”
“You’re conveniently choosing to listen to only half the saloonful of men who were there,” the sheriff pointed out. “The other half saw it different. They’re claiming Buckhorn here kept egging Jack on and then drew on him first.”
“That’s a lie!” Amos Hampton said. “I was there and saw how it happened. Wasn’t nothing like you just repeated, Sheriff. It was Draper who did the egging on and who went for his gun first.”
Conway jumped into the argument. “I was there, too. Dandy Jack did everything he could to avoid that shooting. And when he least expected it, this stranger—the same damn half-breed who pointed a gun at me for no good reason earlier today, if you remember, Sheriff—whipped out his Colt and plugged ol’ Jack.”
The spirited exchange was taking place inside the sheriff’s office. In one of two adjoining cells built into the south wall of the room, Buckhorn looked on from behind the bars but held back from joining in. He had two pretty good champions in Justine and Hampton, he figured, so for the time being he was willing to let them do the talking on his behalf.
Other voices not showing so much restraint when it came to being heard, however, were making a steady rumble outside the squat adobe building that housed the sheriff’s office and jail. It was a mix of Flying W riders taking the side of Dandy Jack faced off against others who’d been present in the Silver Dollar but leaned in favor of Buckhorn.
Banning’s two deputies, Pomeroy and Gates, were stationed out there trying to maintain control of the crowd while the sheriff was trying to do the same with the three people he’d allowed inside. Justine was supposed to be there as an impartial member of the press but so far had done little to hide her personal feelings on the matter.
“Come on, Paul,” Justine said, personalizing her plea to the sheriff. “You’re surely aware of Dandy Jack’s reputation. He killed nearly twenty men and was the first one to brag about it. He craved the notoriety. Does anything about that sound like a man who’d innocently, reluctantly allow himself to get pushed into a gunfight he wasn’t itching to take part in?”
“He was itching all right,” confirmed Hampton. “I was the one he started in on. I don’t like to admit it, but I was doing some shaking in my boots at the thought of having just my fists to go up against the likes of Dandy Jack. Lucky for me this stranger—Buckhorn, as I now know him—was willing to step in for my sake.”
“Yeah, he was willing to step in. Like a dirty coward,” Conway said. “While Jack was distracted by this blowhard mule skinner, that’s when Buckhorn made his play!”
That brought another burst of protests from Justine and Hampton until Banning held up his hands, palms out, and shouted, “Cut it! Jesus Christ, this is getting us nowhere! We might as well go stand in the middle of that crowd outside if all you’re gonna do is holler back and forth at each other.”
“What about that crowd outside?” Justine wanted to know. “There’s the sound and smell to them of a lynch mob. How far are you going to let this go, Sheriff?”
“Nobody’s lynching any prisoner out of my jail, if that’s what you’re driving at,” Banning said. “Which is exactly one of the reasons I hauled Buckhorn in here in the first place. For his own protection. The Flying W had already lost three men today, even before Dandy Jack went down. Those first three were just common wranglers, fellas a lot of those men out there had worked and ridden with for months, maybe years. Good pals to some of ’em.”
“Dandy Jack didn’t have a friend in the world,” Justine said. “Unless it was some starry-eyed fool who was impressed by his rep, or some floozie whose time Jack was paying for.”
“It’s rotten to talk like that about the dead,” Conway said. “Not to mention unladylike.”
“I save my ladylike talk for those who deserve it.” Justine’s eyes blazed. “The point I was trying to make is that whatever’s got those men out there whipped up, it’s got nothing to do with feeling the loss of a friend, not when it comes to Jack Draper. He was a cold-eyed killer who would have thought no more about squeezing the trigger on any one of them than on a jackrabbit. The only thing anybody in that bunch had in common with Dandy Jack was being on Wainwright’s payroll.”
Sheriff Banning puffed out his cheeks and expelled a gust of air. “I never said those men’s feelings of friendship were for Draper. I said it was for the three who’d been brought in before, and that partly explains what has them feeling so frustrated and edgy.”
“Hell,” said Conway, “for all we know, that quick-trigger breed might be the one responsible for gunnin’ those poor cowboys, too.”
Justine rolled her eyes. “Wonderful. Now let’s get even more ridiculous.”
“For Chrissakes don’t be starting in with wild talk like that,” Banning said. “Such a notion starts to spread, it could turn this whole thing into a powder keg.”
“But you can’t just ignore it as a possibility,” Conway insisted. He jabbed a thumb toward Buckhorn. “This gunny shows up out of nowhere and all of a sudden Wainwright men start dropping right and left with cases of lead poisoning. I damn near was one myself.”
“And that makes Buckhorn a gunny?” Justine asked.
“You were there. You saw how fast he pulled on me,” Conway said. “And he beat Dandy Jack, didn’t he? Even if he got the jump, that still proves he knows his way around a gun pretty damn good. And him and Jack knew each other from the past, from being in the same trade. They indicated as much before the guns came out. Even Hampton has to admit that.”
When everyone swung to look at him, Amos Hampton dropped his eyes and frowned. “Yeah, he’s got it right. Buckhorn and Dandy Jack didn’t leave much doubt they knew each other from being in the same line of work.”
“See?” Conway practically crowed. “And that’s from a man who’s been grumbling and complaining all over the county about how General Wainwright has hired what they’re calling gun wolves to protect his business interests. Starting to appear clear enough to me that some among the complainers decided to hire a gun wolf of their own. And you’re looking at him, right over there behind those bars!”
Justine turned to Buckhorn. “Is that true, Joe? Are you a hired gun?”
Buckhorn, no longer able to stay out of it, met her eyes and held them as he said evenly, “Hired gun, gunslinger, gunfighter, shootist, a fella who does gun work . . . Yeah, I’ve been all of those things at one time or other in one place or other. But nobody around here has hired my gun. What happened between me and Dandy Jack happened because he pushed for it to happen. I’m not sure I understand why.”
“You’re the one who did the pushing, the prodding,” Conway said. “And the reason why was because you had Hampton there splitting Jack’s attention so’s you could pull your sneak move on him.”
Buckhorn gave Conway a cold stare and then slowly shifted his gaze to Banning. “I don’t know how long you’re gonna be able to keep me here, Sheriff, without somebody pressing official charges. But, when you do get around to letting me out, you might as well keep that cell key handy because there’s a good chance I’ll be giving you cause to lock me right back up again after I hunt down this little weasel and wring his scrawny damn neck.”
“That was a threat! Everybody heard it, right?” Conway said excitedly. “He threatened me with serious bodily harm. He practically said he was gonna kill me!”
Before anybody could say anything more, the front door opened and Deputy Pomeroy stuck his head in. “I think you’re gonna want to come out here for this, Sheriff. Thomas Wainwright is riding in with a handful of gun toughs.”