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Bitter is the Dust
Scott A. Gese
This story takes place in Kansas. Around the Fort Scott area in the mid 1800's.
The day Sarah McKinney finally escaped the clutches of her abusive husband, she and her adopted son, Jason began a perilous journey and a new life on the run. Sarah is resourceful and Jason is a born survivor. In time their new lives begin to settle down in a new town where Jason is reunited with his real father. Jason takes a job as a ranch hand but his quick temper soon gets him in trouble with his employer.
The future of both Sarah and Jason soon hangs in the balance as their unhappy past and the man they left behind threatens to catch up with them.
Copyright © Scott A. Gese 2016 All rights reserved
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the authors imagination. Any similarity to real persons living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted, downloaded, distributed, reverse engineered or stored in or introduced into any information storage or retrieval system in any form or by any means including electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without express written permission by the author.
First published in Great Britain in 2016 by The Crowood Press
Scott A. Gese regained the rights to Bitter is the Dust in 2022
Cover photo by Damian Zech, Copyright @ Damian Zech, Flickr.com/photos/Zech-Photography/
CHAPTER 1
Breaking Free
Jason McKinney was a survivor. The cards were stacked against him since the day he was born, and now, in his fifteenth year, he was no longer a child; yet not quite a man. Years of hard labor had made him stronger than most kids his age and it had kept him lean. His unruly mop of flaming red hair had branded him a troublemaker from an early age. He did his best to keep the reputation in good standing by bloodying the noses of most of the boys in his school at least once, no matter what the reason. At the ripe old age of twelve he was finished with school, at least, that was what he had been told by those in charge of the operation. He was happy with that to a degree; although it had kept him away from the house and the man who hated him. Now days it was a full time occupation to keep out of his reach.
His mother, God rest her soul, suffered complications during his birth and had died while giving him life. His father, who was in deep distress over the loss of his young wife, decided after a respectful time of grieving, he would move from his home in Wichita, Kansas; and begin a new life further east at Fort Scott. As for his newborn son, he knew nothing of caring for an infant. So, after some serious consideration and at the insistence of his younger sister, Sarah, he left the boy with her to raise as her own.
She named the boy Jason, and from his earliest childhood, the boy's life was hard. Sarah's husband, Jim, had no desire to bond with a child that was not his flesh and blood. He paid very little attention to the boy and treated him with contempt at every turn; the resulting disdain all too often unleashed in bouts of intense physical violence. To Jim, Jason was nothing more than another mouth to feed.
Accordingly, as Jason grew older, Jim worked him hard, from sunup to sundown. The way he saw it, the harder he worked the boy the less he had to do, which translated into more time at the local saloon. Everyone in town knew Jim was a gambler and a drunk, and quite frankly, he wasn't very good at either one. At gambling, he lost more times than he won and his drinking tended to bring out his mean side which translated into the frequent beatings he handed out to his wife and Jason. Jim, however, considered himself a gentleman, justifying his actions as he bragged to the men he drank with, saying such things as "I've never laid a hand on that woman with a closed fist," or "I only smack her around when she deserves it!" And as for the boy, he often boasted, "Strong stick for a fool's back", just like the Good Book says, the ungrateful little bastard! But only when he needs it."
That may have been true in his own drunken mind, but certainly was not fact. Jim held back most of his pent up anger and frustrations for Jason. The boy was the one on the receiving end of Jim's closed fist. And Jason, being so young, could do little more than take it.
That was until one particular day, in the summer of his fifteenth year, when a solid hickory axe handle turned the tables on the old man once and for all. It would be the last time he ever laid a hand on Jason. The first lick to the side of Jim's head would have been enough, but with all that pent up anger finally letting loose, it took more than a few good swings before the hickory stick had repaid the old man all he was owed; and with substantial interest.
When the beating had finally ended, the old man was nothing more than a heap of broken, bloody and battered bones. And as for Jason, he was taken quite by surprise, completely stunned and utterly amazed at what he had just seen his adopted mother, Sarah, finally do.
Sarah herself was more than a bit astonished at what had just taken place. She stood silently over her husband, but the look on her face said volumes. Once she caught her breath, she threw the stick aside and looked over at Jason. He could see it in her eyes. Something had changed. Sarah was not the same woman she was five minutes ago.
"Get the horses saddled," she ordered coldly, "we're leaving."
Jason wasted little time with the horses while Sarah quickly stuffed a few essentials into their saddlebags. She strapped an old pistol to her hip and shoved their only rifle into the scabbard on her saddle. Jason, not wanting to be left totally unarmed, retrieved the axe handle from where Sarah had tossed it. His "redeemer" as he came to call it. He shoved it into his empty scabbard and swung into the saddle.
As they left the barn, Sarah's husband was still laying in the dust where he was beaten. His breathing was shallow and forced. His bones were broken and he was bleeding from several wounds. He was not in good shape. Sarah had taken out some long overdue retribution upon him, and beaten him to within an inch of Hades. As the two rode past, Jason stopped long enough to look down upon the man he'd come to hate. He twice spat on the broken body lying coiled in a fetal position, then spurred his horse into a gallop to catch up with Sarah; his horse kicked up a cloud of trail dirt that covered the broken remains.
Now at a full run, they headed toward the Bradley place, their nearest neighbor. As the horses came close to the house, Sam Bradley stepped out onto the porch to meet them.
*****
As Anna drove up to the McKinney place, she could see Jim out front. From the way he was slowly dragging himself toward the house, she could tell he was in a lot of pain. Bringing the buggy to an abrupt halt, she quickly jumped down and ran to his side. Jim was a mess. He was covered in a mix of dust and blood. His face was horribly swollen and a deep gash on the side his head was streaming blood. His right arm was swollen and misshapen, clearly indicating it had been broken in at least two places. He was unable to stand and quite delirious as he mumbled incoherently to himself. Anna tried her best as she struggled to help him into the house, but Jim feebly shoved her away with his one good arm. "Don't come near me woman," he demanded. "I ain't hardly ever laid a hand on you and look what you did to me, and for what, showing you and that worthless boy some discipline? Go away and leave me alone!"
Once more, Anna tried to help him toward the house, but he stumbled and fell to the ground. "Jim, I'm not Sarah, I'm your neighbor, Anna. Now get up and let me get you into the house. Sam went to get Doc Brown, they should be here soon."
"I don't need no doctor," moaned Jim. "Just get me a drink or two and I'll be just fine."
Anna ignored the request. It took some work, but she finally got him inside and sitting at the kitchen table. She filled a basin with cool water, dampened a clean cloth and began to nurse Jim's wounds as he drifted in and out of consciousness. By the time Sam and the doctor arrived, Anna had cleaned most of the blood from his face and was working on getting the dirt out of the gash on his head.
Doc Brown began his initial exam as Anna began to tell the men about how much blood she had cleaned off of him, and to complain about how all the while she was tending to him, he kept pestering her for a drink of whiskey.
"Well, did you give him one?" asked the Doc.
"I most certainly did not," she vehemently replied; shocked he could even suggest such a thing.
"Well why not?" he scolded. "A good shot of strong whiskey might do him a world of good. As near as I can figure, two of these cuts will need some stitching, and from the size of the knot on his head, he probably has a concussion. He most certainly has a broken arm and a couple of broken ribs. And from the amount of swelling I see on that leg, it might be broken as well. If nothing else, a shot or two of some strong whiskey would dull his pain considerably.
"He's certainly in no condition to be moved, so bringing him into town right now is out of the question. I'll do what I can for him here. I can set his broken arm and stitch up this cut on his head, but as far as his leg is concerned, we'll just need to keep an eye on it and see how it does. I suggest somebody stay with him for a time, until he's fit enough to be moved into town."
"He's got no kin in these parts," replied Sam. "If we can haul him over to our place, we can keep an eye on him for a spell."
"And you say that his wife and son just rode off and left him in this condition?"
"Yes sir, that's right. Sarah said we should fetch you out here because Jim was hurt bad, and that she was the one who hurt him."
"Well I can't hardly feature it," Doc Brown commented. "She ain't that big of a woman. But then again, from the rumors I've heard, maybe she did do it, and maybe he had it coming, but I guess that ain't for me to say."
After taking stock of the situation, he relented. "I guess if hauling him over to your place is the best we can do, then I guess that's what we'll have to do. He can't be left here alone, that's for sure. I've got some laudanum in my bag. As soon as he comes around again I'll give him some for the pain. I suggest waiting until tomorrow morning before you try to move him. You'll need to figure out what you're going to do between now and then."
"If you can stay here until dark," offered Sam. "Anna and I can come back to sit with him until morning."
"That'll be fine," replied the Doc "It'll take me that long to patch him up. Help me move him over to the bed, and I'm going to need some help setting is arm before you go."
Jim had settled down some after he got a couple shots of whiskey in him and was a bit more cooperative. Once he got moved over to the bed, Sam and the doc got busy setting the bone in Jim's arm. The pain was more than he could bare and he soon passed out. Sam and Anna left as the Doc continued to patch him up.
******
After Sarah and Jason left the Bradley place, they rode hard for the rest of the day. As the sun began to set, they found a sheltered spot a short distance from the trail where they made camp for the evening. Jason built a small fire and as they sat close, soaking up its heat, the two of them silently stared into its flickering flames. Without looking up, Jason broke the long silence. "I often wondered why you let him beat on me so." There was something accusatory in the words. "I figured you didn't care about me any more than he did." Head down, he avoided looking at the woman; and then reconsidered. "I guess maybe I was wrong."
Sarah turned her attention from the fire and looked over at Jason. Her eyes were soft and her voice was low. As she spoke, a tear ran down the length of her cheek. "Jim and I never had children of our own. He didn't want any. So when your father agreed to let me take you in, I was so excited. You were the welcome distraction I needed to take my mind off a loveless marriage. But Jim was against the idea from the very beginning. I thought he would take to you over time, but he never warmed up to the idea. He viewed you as competition for my attention as well as another mouth to feed." She inhaled deeply; a long, shuddering breath, and then resumed speaking. "I'm sorry I let him treat you the way he did. I was afraid of him, and what he was capable of. I felt so helpless for such a long time. I took the beatings he gave me, but the burden of not stopping him whenever he went after you welled up in me until I couldn't stand it any longer." She wiped the tears from her cheeks and returned her gaze to the fire. "I'm so sorry, Jason. I let you down for so long. You never deserved to be treated that way."
Jason spoke softly. "Thanks for finally sticking up for me. You were mighty brave to go after him like you did."
She laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. "He was drunk." she replied.
"That may be true, but that's when he's at his meanest. You took a big risk, and as far as I'm concerned, you redeemed yourself a hundred times over the minute you picked up that axe handle and took that very first swing."
Sarah returned her attention to Jason. "I think it's important that you understand that your real father is a good man, Jason. He didn't abandon you because he didn't want you. He knew he couldn't raise you on his own. The death of your mother almost destroyed him, and a new baby was more than he could handle. His dreams were crushed and he felt a powerful need to get away. It was hard for him to let you go. He acted like it didn't matter, but I'm his sister. I know him and I know he was hurting the day he rode out. I hear from him from time to time. He always asks how you're doing. He does care."
Jason's head snapped up, the surprise genuine. "You hear from him? Where is he?"
"He's not that far away. In fact, he's still in Kansas, Fort Scott to be exact. That's where we're heading." She was quiet for a time, and it was clear that there was going to be no more talk of her brother. "It's been a long day, Jason," she sighed, "and I'm tired. I need to get some sleep and I suggest you do the same. We'll need to get an early start in the morning. No telling who might be after us."
Unsettled, but knowing there would be no more talk, Jason threw more wood on the fire; and they both turned in for the night.
******
The following morning Sarah and Jason were up before the sun. The fire was rekindled and after a hasty breakfast, they were back on the trail. Sarah figured Fort Scott was a four, maybe three-day ride if they pushed it, and that's exactly what she planned to do. Nothing would stop her from reaching her brother. Nothing would get in her way.
It was late morning on the second day. They were making good time along an old wagon trail when they first noticed the two riders approaching fast from the opposite direction. Sarah was not in a trusting mood and was wary of the two men from the time she first saw them.
"Be on your guard, Jason," she warned before they had gotten close.
As the men reached Sarah and Jason, they slowed and came up alongside them. It was obvious they were trail-hardened men, unshaven and dirty. Their clothes were unwashed, worn and faded. One had a large scar that ran across his right cheek and disappeared somewhere behind his ear. From their stench, it was clear neither one of them had taken a bath in recent memory.
The scar-faced one spoke up. His voice was gruff and carried an unpleasant tone. "Well, well, what have we here? A pretty young woman and a baby boy? This is mighty rough country for a couple like you to be wandering about by yourselves, don't you think? There's no telling what sort of unsavory characters you might run into out here in the middle of nowhere."
"We're doing just fine on our own," replied Sarah, refusing to be intimidated. She met his gaze head on. "Do you mind if we pass?"
"Do I don't mind if you pass? Why, hell no I don't mind if you pass," replied Scarface. His voice softened as he continued. "If'n you're willing to pay the toll, that is."
Sarah could easily see where the conversation was heading, so without giving it a second thought, she went for the gun on her hip. But Scarface had taken note of the weapon she carried and was much quicker on the draw.
As he held his gun on Sarah he remarked to his partner, "Harper, you cover the boy. I think I'll take hold of the little woman for a bit, and extract my toll, if you know what I mean."
"Are you sure we got time for this?" questioned Harper.
Scarface snapped back. "We got time if'n I say we got time." He smiled a dastardly smile toward Sarah. His half-rotted teeth only accented the repulsiveness of the situation as he stepped down from his horse and moved toward her. It was at that moment, while Harper was distracted by the sight he was hoping to witness, that Jason, in one smooth and swift motion, pulled the axe handle from his scabbard, and swung the hickory stick at Harper's face. But his aim was too low and instead of catching the man across the face as he had hoped; the stick caught him square in the throat crushing his windpipe. Harper rolled off his horse and fell to the ground clutching his throat as he gasped for air and writhed in pain. As Scarface turned toward the commotion, Sarah kicked her horse straight at him. Pulling the pistol from its holster she fired off one shot, and as pure luck would have it, she hit the scoundrel square in the left eye. He fell back and dropped to the ground with a thud as only a dead man could do.
Harper eventually quit his convulsing and lay still. Both men were now dead. Having never actually killed someone, Sarah was visibly shaken. Jason moved in close to console her. "Are you all right?" When he saw that his words had no effect, he tried again. "You did what you had to do. It was self defense."
They both looked down at the bodies as they lay on the ground. "What do you think we should do with them?" questioned Jason.
"For their mother's sake, I expect we should give them a decent burial," replied Sarah.
Jason, not wanting to waste any time on the men, was slow to agree; but he relented. "I expect you're right. We should bury them, but for no other reason than to hide the bodies; and the quicker the better."
So with a hint of resignation, he dismounted and dragged the two bodies to the side of the trail where they began to cover the men over with rocks.
It was hot work, and decent sized boulders were hard to find. As they were hunting for more rocks to finish the job, two more riders came into view.
"Damn, just what we need," stated Jason as he turned to Sarah with a concerned look on his face.
"Don't worry, let me do the talking," cautioned Sarah as she quickly grabbed the rifle from its scabbard.
As the men came close, it was plain to see the badges that both men were wearing. One of them was a sheriff, and the other, his deputy. Nobody said a word as the lawmen looked over the situation. It was easy for them to determine what was taking place, as the dead men were only half covered.
"And what have we here?" asked the sheriff.
Sarah retorted with a swift response. "It was self defense. These men stopped us and at gunpoint they tried to take advantage of the fact that I'm a woman. It was their last mistake."
"So I see," replied the sheriff. "Do you know who these men are?"
"Scum," interjected Jason.
"You got that right, young man." He dismounted and uncovered the heads of the two men to get a closer look. As he examined the scar-faced one, he remarked with a bit of surprise. "You shot him in the eye." He then turned his attention to his deputy. "This here is Riley alright, and the other is surely Harper." Then back to Sarah. "These men are wanted outlaws. We've been hot on their trail most of the day. They robbed the bank back in Fall River this morning. These men were dangerous and I have to say, you two were extremely lucky things worked out the way they did."
The Sheriff walked over to the men's horses and looked through the saddlebags. From one he pulled a canvas sack with the words Bank of Fall River, Kansas plainly written on it. He opened it and pulled out a stack of cash of which he quickly gave an account.
"It's all here," he remarked. "There's a reward for these two. One hundred dollars each. I'd say you earned it." He then counted out two hundred dollars and handed it to Sarah. "You best be on your way, we'll take the bodies back to town for you."
Sarah took the money and slipped it deep into the front pocket of her pants.
After she and Jason had rode away, the deputy turned to the sheriff, the right-hand corner of his mouth quirked up in a wry smile. "I thought there was a two hundred dollar bounty on each of these men?"
"Don't worry about it, Carson. You'll get your cut as soon as I take care of the paperwork. Get down off that horse and give me a hand. We'll load these two hombres up and head back to town."
******
Jason and Sarah rode on in silence, each deep into their own thoughts. After several hours of steady riding they came upon a small creek and followed it off the trail until they came to a grove of cottonwood trees shading a small patch of grass. Sarah jumped from her horse and dropped to her knees along the bank of the creek. She repeatedly splashed its cool water onto her face as if trying to wash away the memories of the past couple of days. The water hid her tears as they streamed down her cheeks. "What has happened to me?" she cried out, sobbing. She wrapped herself in a tight self-hug and began to rock back and forth.
"You finally came to your senses and started defending yourself," came the voice from behind her.
She quickly turned to see Jason standing close by. "I didn't know you were there."
"It's all right," he replied. "A lot has happened in the past two days, but I know we're going to be all right; that is, as long as we keep moving."
"But don't you understand," cried Sarah. "Yesterday, I beat my husband half to death, and today I killed a man."
Jason stooped down next to Sarah and spoke to her with calm reproof. "No, yesterday you saved the both of us from a no-good, abusive, drunk. And today you saved us from a lot worse, and you know it. We both know what they were going to do to you and there was no way in hell I was going to let that happen. Neither one of us was expecting to kill someone; and if things had gone south, we'd both be dead. It just happened.
"And to top it all off, we ended up with two hundred dollars. That sheriff didn't have to tell us there was a reward on those two men. He could have let us ride off and we wouldn't have been the wiser. Maybe he felt bad for us, I don't know. What I do know is that this is more money than either one of us has ever seen in our entire lives. So the best thing we can do now is to put this behind us and keep moving. We'll give the horses a short rest and then we go."
Sarah stood up and kissed him on the forehead. "Jason, you've grown up on me. You're absolutely right, but that doesn't change the fact that we took a human life…two of them, and as long as I live, I'll never feel good about that."
She felt him tense beneath her fingers and decided to drop the subject. "When we leave here we should go into town and pick up a few supplies. At the pace we're going, I figure we still have more than a two-day ride, and we're about out of food. We should steer clear of the sheriff even though he did right by us this morning. I don't know what it is; there was something about him that just didn't sit well with me. Call it a woman's intuition if you like, but I just don't trust the man."
The summer sun continued its steady arc across a cloudless blue sky. The shadows of the day were beginning to grow as the afternoon grew late. The cool grass and the shade of the cottonwood trees would have been a welcome relief from the heat of the day but they had lingered long enough already and needed to be on the move. They mounted up and continued toward the town of Fall River, wondering if the sheriff and his deputy were still behind them, or if they had been passed without notice.
They rode for several more hours, and if they hadn't been paying attention, they would have missed the meager little town altogether. There wasn't much to it, but then, all they needed was a place to buy a few supplies. The general store was easy to find, and after hitching their horses, they went inside.
A clean-shaven middle-aged man stood behind the front counter. He was rather thin, and bald except for a band of graying hair running around the back of his head from ear to ear.
"Good afternoon ma'am; son. What can I do for you today? Don't reckon I know you two. Are you new around here or just passing through? My name is Stewart, friends call me Gabby."
"Well, Stewart," replied Sarah, amused by the old man's spontaneity. "We are just passing through and we're in need of a few supplies."
"Yes ma'am, you just tell me what you'd like and I'll be glad to wrap it up for you. So, you're just passing through. Where might you be headin', if you don't mind my askin'?"
"Let's see," replied Sarah, skirting the question. "I think I'll take a small bag of those beans and a small portion of that bacon you have there, and a small sack of flour, too'
"And how about a loaf of that fresh bread I'm smelling?" inquired Jason.
"Good choice," replied Stewart. "My wife baked this bread just this afternoon."
"Where might my son and I get something to eat?" inquired Sarah.
"Well…there is the saloon," replied Stewart thoughtfully. "But I don't think that's a very good place for a lady. My wife, Ellie, has just finished cooking up supper. You're welcome to eat a bite if you like. It's chicken and dumplin's, and it's mighty good eatin' if I do say so myself."
"If you're sure you have enough, I think we'd like that," answered Sarah. "Now how much do I owe you?"
"That will be sixty-five cents for the supplies and since I invited you, no charge for the supper."
Sarah reached into her front pocket and pulled out the money she had gotten from the Sheriff.
"That's quite a pile of money you got their ma'am," exclaimed Stewart. "I wouldn't be letting on that you got it. Around here, there are some who might try to take it from you."
"Thank you for your concern," replied Sarah. "I'll keep it well hidden. Here is one dollar and you may keep the change."
"Well, thank you, ma'am. You're very kind." Stewart wrapped up the supplies and slipped in a second loaf of fresh bread before handing it to Sarah. "Come along now, this way to the kitchen." He raised his voice. "Ellie, we have some company," he hollered as he led the way to the back room.
Ellie walked into the kitchen where Sarah and Jason were about to be seated at the table. She was a plump woman around fortyish. A few strands of gray graced her dark brown hair and a blue gingham apron was wrapped tightly around her waist. Her pleasant smile was as bright as the noonday sun.
Stewart spoke up. "Ellie, this here is ah…"
Sarah broke in. "Sarah," she said, extending her hand. "And this is my son, Jason. We're just passing through and stopped to pick up a few supplies. I inquired about where we might get a bite to eat. Your husband offered his hospitality…and yours. I hope we're not intruding?"
"Intruding," laughed Ellie. "Why, we never get visitors; this is wonderful. Please, make yourselves at home. You can wash up at the basin right over here if you wish."
Sarah took Ellie up on the offer and made her way to the basin as Jason took a seat at the table.
"So, where are the two of you traveling to?" inquired Ellie.
Stewart interrupted, "I already asked that question Ellie, and they weren't forthcoming which is just fine by me. I believe people are entitled to their privacy."
"Well, to be truthful," replied Sarah as she wiped off her wet face with a towel. "I'm a little wary about telling folks my plans. No offense, but I think it's best if we don't say."
Ellie dished up two plates of chicken and dumplings and set them on the table for Sarah and Jason. "I sense the two of you may be in a bit of trouble? Would I be mistaken in thinking that?"
"Would this be like women's intuition?" asked Jason. He smiled, and risked a look at his mother.
"Why, yes, you could call it that, but even more so, I would say it was an acute eye for observing things, and seeing when they aren't just right."
Polite conversation continued as the meal progressed. Sarah began to feel a bit more comfortable talking to Ellie and Stewart, and eventually proceeded to tell them about leaving her home and husband, but not about the beating, or the killings that took place that morning, and certainly not about where they were heading. She didn't know if her husband would eventually be following them and she wasn't about to spill the beans about their destination. It felt good to talk about her troubles with another woman. Ellie, and even Stewart for that matter, were very sympathetic toward the two of them.
Soon the plates were empty and their story was told. Sarah was getting comfortable, but Jason was starting to get a little anxious about getting back on the trail.
"Ma, the horses have been tied out front for most of two hours now. We should be going before we lose any more light."
"You're right Jason. We've kept these good people too long from their work. We thank you for your kindness but we really do need to be moving on."
"You're not keeping us from much," replied Stewart. "We don't have a whole lot to do but run this here store and as you can see, it ain't a difficult undertaking. But if you're that anxious to be heading out, we'll see you on your way."
As they walked out the front door, they were met by the sheriff who was looking over the two horses. "I thought I recognized these horses. I figured you two would be long past this town by now. I got me a telegram this afternoon. Seems a woman and her boy beat a man to within an inch of his life back in Wichita a couple days ago. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that now, would you?"
Ellie stepped forward. "Now you listen here Jonathan Brass, if she beat that man, she must have had a darn good reason to do it, so don't you be giving her a hard time or I just might let you have a good whack myself."
Grinning, the lawman held up both hands in a gesture of surrender. "Now just calm down, Ellie. You may be my big sister, but I have a job to do here."
Ellie was having none of it. "Well I suggest you go do it someplace else and leave these two alone. You need to pick your battles wisely Jonathan, and this here ain't one of them."
Sarah broke in. "It's all right, Ellie. Sheriff, the man is my husband and yes, I did beat him. I'm almost sorry I didn't kill the worthless drunk. He beat me and this boy one too many times. It took me close to ten years to get up the courage to do more than just stand back and watch. My only regret is that I didn't do it sooner. If that makes me any less of a lady, then so be it. If you have nothing more to say to me, we'll be on our way."
The sheriff locked eyes with Ellie for several seconds and then stepped aside. "That would be a good idea. You're losing light." A scowl and a sideways glance back at Ellie gave away the fact that Jonathan was not too happy with his big sister.
Ellie, seeing the discontent in her brother's eyes, couldn't help but dig into him just a little bit deeper. "Just hold on there a minute, Sarah. The day is late and the sun will be down in a couple of hours. Even if you left now, you wouldn't get far before dark. If Gabby has no objections, I think the two of you should stay here the night. We have an extra room, so what do you say?"
"Well that's mighty kind of you Ellie, but we really don't want to put you out and it seems the sheriff is anxious to see us leave town."
"Don't you worry none about him. He does a darn good job for us here in Fall City, but he can be a bit over protective." Looking toward her brother, she went on. "I really don't think Jonathan would want to send a woman and her child out into the night. Am I right, Jonathan?"
As much as it galled him, Jonathan couldn't argue with his sister's logic. Not that he was totally giving in. "On second thought, Ellie," he replied, holding back his obvious discontent with his sister, "I see no harm in letting them stay the night. He shook a finger at her. "But I'll warn you now, it's my duty to send a wire back to Wichita and let them know I've seen these two. But just to show you how high and mighty I can be, I'll tell you what. I won't send that telegram until tomorrow morning after they've left town." Politely tipping the brim of his hat, he took his leave; making damned sure he had the last word. "You all have a pleasant evening."
Ellie turned to Sarah with a big grin on her face. "See how easy that was. He acts tough, but he's a pushover if you handle him right. Now I won't take no for an answer. The two of you just turn yourselves right around and head back inside. And thank you, Gabby, for not objecting."
"Ain't nothing to object to. I'll take the horses around back and bed em' down for the night."
******
Sheriff Brass felt uneasy about having Sarah and the boy hanging around. He hadn't said anything about them killing the two bank robbers. When he and Carson brought the bodies back into town, he just let everyone believe they had killed them. He had lied on the paperwork he filled out earlier and now was hoping he wouldn't be found out. His sister Ellie was hard headed, but even if they did confide in her about what happened, she would keep her mouth shut. She liked the notoriety that having her brother as sheriff gave her.
It was late the following morning when Sheriff Brass walked through the door of the general store. Stewart was busying himself at the counter.
"I haven't seen those two ride out yet and daylight's burning."
"Ellie's a hard headed woman, John," Stewart shrugged. "She ain't about to let those two ride out on their own again."
Jonathan was toying with a bolt of fabric laying out on the counter. "I don't believe that was our agreement. Where is she, Gabby? I need to have a talk with her about that."
Stewart responded without looking at his brother-in-law. "Hang on and I'll get her for you."
Stewart went into the back room and a few seconds later Ellie came out…alone.
Jonathan wasted no time in calling his sister out. "What the hell is going on here, Ellie? Gabby tells me you're holding those two back. Didn't I say I wanted them out of town at first light?"
"That was before Sarah confided in me last night about the two dead holdup men you brought in from the desert yesterday. Seems you and Carson weren't the ones who killed them after all, but you let the whole town believe you were. I'm not going to let that woman and her son ride out of here without an escort. It's too dangerous. Sarah and I went to the telegraph office earlier this morning and sent for her brother over in Fort Scott."
The lawman threw up his hands in disgust. "Fort Scott! That's a good two days ride from here."
"That's right, and if you don't want people in this town to look down on you for taking credit for dragging in those two dead outlaws yesterday, I suggest you put up with them for a couple more days. They're good people Jonathan, if you would just stop thinking of them as a threat and start seeing them for who they are, you'd realize that."
"I ain't happy about this, Ellie." grumbled the sheriff, perturbed that his older sister had an annoying way of forgetting just who was in charge. "But as long as everyone keeps their mouths shut, I'll let it be."
"No one will say a word," Ellie promised as she turned and headed to the back room. It took all the control she could muster to hide her laughter.
******
Mac Shepard had just finished loading his wagon with a few supplies. He didn't come to town often. He pretty much kept to himself and only made the trip in when he was running low on the basic necessities. As a younger man, he had fought in the War Between the States. He was battle hardened, but even that had not prepared him for the horrific pain of the sudden loss of his young wife during the birth of his one and only son.
Letting go of the boy had been even worse.
Rubbing the sweat from his brow, he shook the grim thoughts away. He'd spent too many years living in the Hell of "what if' and "if only'; beating himself almost to the ground with regret and guilt, each passing year worse than the one before. At first, he had contented himself with the knowledge his sister Sarah would provide his son the tender mercies a baby needed. Later, he consoled himself with the thought that he had very little to offer the boy, at least, not yet; and life moved on, one day passing to the other like pages turning in a book.
Someone calling his name roused him from his dark musings, and he looked up to see the young boy from the Western Union jogging his way and calling his name. "Mr. Shepherd!"
Hesitating, he took the piece of paper from the boy's hand, his brow furrowing as he began to read. Almost as an afterthought, he dug in to the front pocket of his trousers, and dug out a two-cent piece and handed it off to the kid.
******
Two days later, just as the sun was cresting over the general store, a stranger rode into town. Sheriff Brass leaned against the hitch rail in front of his office, enjoying the warmth of the early morning sun. He busied himself with rolling a smoke while keeping a keen eye on the man heading in his direction. The newcomer pulled up in front of the sheriff and tipped his hat in a polite fashion.
"Good morning, sheriff. I'm looking for a woman named Sarah McKinney. You wouldn't happen to know where I might find her, would you?"
The sheriff finished rolling his smoke and put a match to it. He studied the stranger through a haze of fresh smoke before he answered with a question of his own. "This wouldn't happen to be the Sarah who travels with a young red headed boy named Jason now would it?"
Suddenly wary, the man nodded his head. "Yes, that would be her'
Brass flicked some dead ash from his quirly. "You must be her brother. I'm afraid I didn't catch your name?"
"My apologies. My name is Mac, Mac Shepard."
"Well, Mac Shepard, You can find your sister right across the street at the general store."
"Thank you, sheriff." Mac sat still, only turning his head in the direction of the store. He sat there on his horse not saying a word and not moving one way or the other.
The sheriff took a long draw from his smoke. He watched the sun filter through the lazy blue haze as he slowly exhaled. Seeing that Mac hadn't made a move, he inquired. "What seems to be the problem there, Mac?"
Turning back to the sheriff, he replied. "The boy is my son. I pretty much abandoned him when he was born. His mother died during childbirth and I had no clue about taking care of a newborn child. I left him with my sister, and I left town."
Brass heard something akin to regret in the man's voice; regret and uncertainty. "And you haven't seen him since?"
Mac shook his head. "No, sir. I've gotten word about him from time to time, but I felt too guilty to come back to see him."
The sheriff took another long drag from his smoke and blew it out thoughtfully. "You could have came back to fetch him once he got older," he replied.
Mac Shepherd squared his shoulders, mouthing the words he had said a hundred times in his head during the long ride into town. "No sir, I couldn't do that. Jason was the son Sarah never had. I couldn't take him away from her. It wouldn't have been right."
The lawman snorted. "Of course not, but you're here now. So man up and go take care of business."
Mac stepped off his horse and slowly led it across the street to the hitch rail where he tied it. Heavy-footed, he stepped up on the boardwalk and disappeared through the store's front door.
Sheriff Brass walked off down the street. He had work to do.
******
"How may I help you," inquired Stewart, as Mac came through the door.
"My name is Mac Shepard. I'm looking for a woman named Sarah. I understand she's here."
Before Stewart had a chance to reply, Sarah burst through the back room doorway and rushed into the arms of her brother. She hugged him hard and the tears began to flow.
Ellie, watching from the doorway, dried her own eyes with the edge of her apron.
Through tears of joy, Sarah and Mac expressed their sorrows for not contacting each other more often.
After several minutes of conciliatory small talk, Mac could hold back the question no longer. "Where is he, where's Jason?"
Sarah turned toward the back room and Ellie stepped out of the doorway. "Jason," she called. "Come out here and meet your father."
Nothing
"Jason," Sarah called again.
Jason slowly stepped into the doorway.
Sarah beckoned to the boy with her right hand, wiggling her fingers. "Jason, come here. I want you to meet my brother, Mac…your father."
Jason and Mac looked at each other warily. Neither one was sure of what to expect. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Jason spoke up. "You son-of-a-bitch! You left me in the hands of the devil himself and you never came back to save me."
Bewildered – visibly shocked – Sam looked to Sarah. "What's he talking about?"
Sarah, stunned by Jason's comment, called out. "Jason, he doesn't know. I never told him."
"Never told me what?" demanded Mac.
Jason, tears streaming down his cheeks, angrily shouted. "That the man you left me with was a worthless gambler and drunk!! When he drank too much or he lost all his money, he would take it out on us. He would beat me and he would beat ma too. He was the devil and I hope someday he burns in hell!"
Sarah again cried out. "Jason, it's not Mac's fault. I never told him. I never told him."
Mac, now more angry than confused, turned to Sarah. "You let this go on for how many years and never once called out to me for help? I'll kill that son-of-a-bitch. I swear to God, I'll kill him!"
"No Mac, you won't," Sarah admonished. "What we need to do right now is to keep moving forward. We need to go to your place where we can be safe, and sort things out. Killing him would be the wrong thing to do."
"I'm all for killing him," scoffed Jason, not caring who heard. "Hell, I'd like nothin' more than to find out Dull Knife and his band of Cheyennes…"
Appalled by her son's outburst, Sarah cut him off. "Didn't you hear what I just said? No! At some point he'll come looking for us. You can be sure of that, and when he does, I want to be someplace safe."
Ellie broke in. "Sarah, if that man comes into this town, take my word for it. I'll personally make sure he goes no further."
Mac spoke up. "Jason, I'm upset that Sarah never told me about how it was with the two of you. Believe me, if I had known, I would have put an end to it a long time ago. I'm sorry I left you. My wife, your mother, died giving you birth. I couldn't handle it and I couldn't handle a newborn baby. I ran. I know that was a coward thing to do, and for that I'm truly sorry. I know I may never be able to make it up to you, but please give me the chance."
Stewart, who had been quietly observing the whole scene, and having a good idea where the situation was heading, took it upon himself to speak up. "Jason, why don't you and I go out and saddle up the horses."
He gave Mac a friendly wink as he ushered Jason out the back door and into the barn where the horses were stalled. Jason was still in a foul mood as he backed up against the stall gate in a huff. "Did you hear him! He admitted it! He ran. He dropped me like a hot rock and ran off." That fact is father had apologized mattered not one mote.
Reaching out, Stewart laid a gentle hand on the boy's shoulder. "Listen, Jason, you don't really know me and you can take what I'm about to say with a grain of salt if you like, but please do the respectful thing and stay here while I talk. I'm a pretty simple man. I'm not a deep thinker like some, but I have had ample opportunity in my life to observe people. I know I'm good at reading them and I know when someone's hurting deep inside. I seen it in you and Sarah the first day the two of you walked into my store, and believe it or not, I see it in your father right now."
"He's not my father," argued Jason vehemently.
Stewart shook his head. "But that's where you're wrong. He is your father whether you want to claim him or not, and believe me, he's hurting right now just as you are. I'm sure at the time he left, he thought he was doing the right thing. Think about how he must have felt. His wife, your mother, had just died. He knew he couldn't take care of you. He thought he was leaving you in capable hands. Why heck, nobody can read the future. He did what he thought was best for you. I'm sure it was a hard decision for him, don't you think? Right or wrong, you have to give the man credit for making such a hard decision. He's definitely mad at Sarah for not confiding in him about what was happening to the two of you, and I'm sure he feels guilty about it. After all, he did apologize and he did ask for another chance to make it right. You really need to consider your next move here, Jason. You have the opportunity to have a new beginning with a real father. One who I'm sure will care for you.
"You have a decision to make, boy." He gave the youngster a little shake. "I'll saddle the horses while you think about what it is you're going to do next."
Stewart pulled a blanket off the rail and began to saddle one of the horses. Jason stayed where he was for another minute before he slowly began to walk back to the house. Stewart stopped and watched him go and hoped he had talked some sense into the boy.
Jason stepped back into the house. Ellie was out front waiting on a customer. Sarah and Mac sat at the kitchen table, talking. Mac rose up from his chair and faced Jason as the boy walked into the room; watching as his son stopped cold in his tracks. Silently, they faced each other, until Jason walked up to Mac and offered his hand. "My name is Jason."
Relieved, Mac accepted the hand. "My name is Mac."
"It'll be good to get to know you, Mac," Jason said, his tone subdued.. "Now let's get moving."
"It's a start," thought Mac. "It's a start."
By the time Mac, Sarah and Jason were out the front door, Stewart had the horses saddled and waiting. Sheriff Brass stood nearby as they said their good-by's and mounted up. He was happy to see them go and tipped his hat to Sarah as she rode passed. Jason, who was taking up the rear stopped next to the sheriff and leaned in. "I hear the reward for those two men who robbed the bank was two hundred each. You owe me two hundred dollars."
Sheriff Brass was quick to react as he reached up and grabbed Jason by the shirt jerking him off his horse and down into the dirt. He planted his boot on the boy's chest and pulled his revolver from its holster. Thinking better of the move, he reholstered his gun, but with his boot still firmly planted he leaned in close and said his piece "Why you little shit. If you were more than a little red headed runt, I'd work you over good. You're lucky you got what you did. If you want to push the matter it'll be my pleasure and your big mistake. I suggest you crawl back on that horse and catch up with your mama…and don't look back."
By this time, Mac and Sarah had turned back. "Is there a problem here, sheriff?" asked Mac.
"I don't believe so. Is there Jason?"
Jason got up out of the dirt and brushed himself off. "Not at the moment," he replied as he climbed back onto his horse.
The three of them continued down the street, Mac and Sarah in the lead; deep in conversation. Jason turned and looked back at the sheriff with disdain, and then, certain Sarah and Mac were not watching – nor giving a damn at what the sheriff had threatened – raised his arm in a one-fingered salute. Laughing, he spun his horse around and spurred it into a lope, intent on catching up with his companions.
Later in the day as he rode along side Sarah, she asked, "Back in town, what was that all about with you and the sheriff?
"Nothing, nothing at all."
"It looked to be a little more than nothing to me," Sarah ventured.
Eyes straight ahead, Jason shrugged it off. "Don't worry about it. The sheriff and I just don't see eye to eye on a certain thing."
"And what thing is that?" Sarah persisted.
"Like I said, don't worry about it. It was nothing."
Continue Reading
Chapter Three / On the Trail to Fort Scott
Chapter Five / Good News, Bad News
Chapter Six / Trailing the Dog
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A full length novel by Scott A. Gese
The day Sarah McKinney finally escaped the clutches of her abusive husband, she and her adopted son, Jason, began a perilous journey and a new life on the run. The future hangs in the balance as their unhappy past and the man they left behind threatens to catch up with them.
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