The Fire in Ember - DiAnn Mills [39]
He rode into Rocky Falls. The town looked peaceful, a quiet community. Since Bob Culpepper had been elected marshal over four years ago, he’d handled the rare problems with a firm hand. Being the town’s undertaker gave those who chose to break the law something more to think about. He had a way of reminding lawbreakers about the coffins stored in the back room of the funeral home that scared them straight. John found the marshal’s threats amusing, but reality worked. Maybe Bob should run for judge too. A man who served as town marshal, a judge, and an undertaker ought to eliminate any problems in and around Rocky Falls.
Dark shadows lingered by the time John tied his horse to the hitching post in front of the marshal’s office. Weariness bore down on him before he’d begun the search for the cattle rustlers. Bob had indicated the need to form a posse, but first the men needed a trail to follow. After Saturday night’s gulley washer, the tracks had vanished. Maybe the thieves would get cocky and try adding to their herd. Ranch hands would be armed and waiting. Blood would flow, and unfortunately the innocent would fall along with the guilty.
A lantern shone through the window indicating Bob labored over a mound of work, rubbing his chest. John opened the door to find him studying a hand-drawn map of the ranches in the area. He glanced up and greeted John, then motioned for him to sit down. “You look as tired as I feel.”
“Then we both need to get some rest soon.”
“You sound like my wife. She brought me supper and proceeded to tell me I wouldn’t be losing so much hair and complaining about my aching bones if I’d give up being the town’s marshal.”
“What did you tell her?”
He grinned, and the lines lifted around his eyes. “That being an undertaker taxed a man’s view of age too.”
John enjoyed a good belly laugh. “Learn anything about the rustlers?”
“Widow Bess told me Leon Wilson showed up at the saloon the evening Oberlander fired him. Made some strong threats. Wish she would have gotten word to me then so I could have talked to him.”
John slid a chair across the wooden floor and positioned it across from Bob’s desk. “Oberlander has around fifty head missing, bringing the total to around a hundred. Just like McBride’s and Breacher’s losses, the rain washed away the tracks. Frankly, I think we could still pick up a trail.” He took in a deep breath in hopes his body would stop screaming out for rest. “Oberlander told me Leon Wilson’s people are from Silverton. That’s worth a wire in case he shows up there.”
“We’ll handle sending it first thing in the morning. According to McBride and Breacher, the cattle seemed to disappear.”
“What else did you learn?”
“The Rocky Mountain News claims a gang of brothers have been stealing cattle in the southern part of the state. Could be the gang’s moved this way. I’ve been studying a map to see if there’s a pattern. Looks varied to me at this point.” Bob sat back in his chair and ran his fingers over the top of his balding head. He looked like ten hours of sleep would do him good. “Could be Leon. Could be any number of gangs.”
“Anyone killed?”
“A ranch hand and a few others. Blamed on the gang of brothers.”
Not since Uncle Parker and Aunt Sage took out over the Rockies to free him and Davis from the McCaw gang had John felt serious trouble from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. He’d been eighteen when the outlaws hit the area, and now he was twenty-three. Same time of year as then too. No wonder he sweated during the summer months. The uneasiness had more to do with the memory of a murdering gang than the hot sun. The summer his father was murdered hadn’t left him; the pain was merely masked with work and responsibility.
“Who’s leading the gang of brothers?” John already had an idea about writing Uncle Parker. His state contacts would aid them in getting federal marshals to Rocky