Ambush Range Read online

  Ambush Range

  Burt Kroll

  © Burt Kroll 1981

  Burt Kroll has asserted his rights under the Copyright, Design and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.

  First published in 1981 by Robert Hale Ltd.

  This edition published in 2018 by Endeavour Frontier, an imprint of Endeavour Media Ltd.

  Table of Contents

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

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  One

  Ward Merrill grinned at the exuberance of his eight-year-old son Lonnie as they rode into the town of Portville, Kansas, from their small cow spread east of Abilene. But it was an occasion for excitement for at last, the railroad had opened up their new spur line to the town, and everyone was expecting a rush of custom now that trail herds could make for Portville instead of Abilene, if they came up farther east than the usual cattle trails leading from the south. It also meant that Merrill himself, and other ranchers in the county, would be able to bring their cattle here to the cattle pens outside of town instead of trailing the extra two hundred miles to Abilene. The new spur line was going to save local folks a great deal and put a lot of extra business their way.

  But Merrill could not share his son’s enthusiasm, and had already made his attitude towards the project well known to the local folks, especially at the public meetings that had been held before the railroad got the go-ahead to build the spur. He had seen what happened to Abilene when the trail herds arrived from Texas and other points south and all the trail-weary cattle-hands had come into the town, their pockets bulging with pay, their trail-hardened appetites ready for the diversions awaiting them. Unscrupulous operators had gone out of their way to get the dough out of the pockets of those pleasure-seeking cowpokes, and there had been bad trouble in the streets.

  Merrill knew all this because he had worked as a deputy US marshal before handing in his law badge to get married; start cattle-ranching and raising a family. That had been almost ten years ago, and now he had a son of eight years and a wife who had been buried for the last four years. His taut lips seemd to tighten even more as he thought about the past, while the excited chatter of his son, who was mounted on a milk-white pony called Injun, tried to cut through his clogging thoughts. He gazed ahead at the town rising up out of the prairie, and wondered if his forebodings would materialize when the herds began to arrive.

  Portville was a wooden town, built on a long stretch of the trail to Abilene, but new buildings had been added to the town’s outskirts, he noted, and his usually firm lips compressed a little more as he noted that some of the newer establishments were saloons. He nodded to himself, thinking that his fears for the future peacefulness of the county were well founded.

  “Pa, there’s some cattle in the pens already!” Lonnie called excitedly, standing up in his stirrups in order to look across the town, which lay in a hollow, and peer at the mass of pens stretching across the flats out of town. The twin ribbons of rail tracks glinted in the sunlight. “I can see some cattle-cars there as well, and it looks like a herd is being loaded into the wagons. Can we go take a look-see, Pa, huh?”

  “Plenty of time,” Merrill replied smiling at the note of elation in his son’s voice. “But I guess there’ll be other folks around here just as excited as you, son. Let’s ride in and speak to our friends before getting the feel of this new business.”

  “I’ll ride on ahead while you go see Miz Parry,” Lonnie suggested. “I can come along there afterwards, when I’ve seen the cattle and the trail-hands.”

  “Lonnie, I don’t have to tell you that the cattle-yards will be dangerous for a youngster. You know what those longhorns are like. They’ll be scared because they’re on the move, and a youngster on a white pony wouldn’t stand much chance if one of them charged.”

  “Aw, Pa, you see too much fear in everything.” Lonnie was disappointed. “I’m eight years old now. I can take care of myself.”

  “I worry about you because you’re all I’ve got left in the world,” Merrill retorted. “With your Ma gone there’s no one else, Lonnie.”

  “You’ve got Pop out at the spread, and Miz Parry in town. Folks say she would marry you tomorrow if you was to ask her.”

  “I don’t care what folks say.” Merrill’s lips relaxed slightly and he drew a long breath as he turned his horse towards the livery barn on the left. “Come on, we’ll leave our mounts here and walk like civilized folks.”

  Lonnie was loath to obey, but he knew the tone in Merrill’s voice and they turned aside from the rutted street and dismounted at the water-trough near the big corral. As they let their animals drink, the liveryman, Herb Gwynn, emerged from the big barn and came hurrying towards them, his faded blue eyes bright and his wrinkled face alive with excitement.

  “Ward, I’m sure glad to see you!” the old man called, and Merrill turned to face him, aware by Gwynn’s eagerness that there was some bad news to be imparted. It never ceased to amaze him that folks almost busted a gut to pass on bad news.

  “What’s on your mind Herb?” he demanded, his right hand instinctively touching the butt of his holstered Colt’s .45 tied down on his right thigh.

  “Hell, if the first night there are cowpokes in from the trail your warning comes true,” Gwynn said harshly. “The herd showed up late yesterday, and some of them drovers were in town last night with their dough all ready to spend. There was a shooting, though. Two of them got fighting over a woman in Maitland’s saloon, and one of them died with a bullet through his chest.”

  “Sure wish I’d been here to see it,” Lonnie said quickly, and Merrill silenced the boy with a quick glance.

  “So long as they only kill one another,” Merrill responded. “Sure, I told everyone what would happen around here soon as the herds began to arrive. Anyone who has seen Abilene knows what’s gonna happen, but the businessmen of this town pushed the deal through to let the spur line be built, and now the whole county will have to suffer.”

  “There’s been a lot of talk in town today,” Gwynn commented. “The whole community is splitting right down the middle. Those with everything to gain from the extra business reckon everything will be all right and the rest are crying out that they should have listened to you and told the railroad to go to hell some place else.”

  “Too late now for talk,” Merrill said, turning back to his horse. He gathered his reins and began to lead the animal into a stall in the long barn. “Folks knew what to expect before they agreed to the spur line, and now the railroad is here they’ll have to take what comes along with it.”

  “There’s hell to pay, anyway,” Gwynn said, following them and anxious to impart what he knew of the situation. “Some folks want the sheriff to take a tough line and stop the trail-hands from coming into town. They can deliver the herds to the cattle-pens, then ride on back south.”

  “They wouldn’t stand for that, and there’s no law says a man, no matter who he is, can’t come into a town to spend dough. You can only move them on if they are broke.”

  “Then force the trail bosses to withhold paying them off until they’ve headed back south,” Gwynn suggested. “It ain’t my idea. I’m only repeating what’s being said around town, that’s all. It don’t affect me none. I’m sitting on the fence far as this business is concerned, and I guess you can walk around saying, I told you so
!”

  “I’m not likely to do that,” Merrill retorted sternly. “I don’t like what will happen around here, but I figure I’ve done all that can be expected of me. I warned the town but it didn’t want to listen. None of the businessmen cares about what might go on. All they wanta do is cash in on the trail-hands spending their hard-earned dough here.”

  “And the prominent businessmen of the town are all on the town council, so what they say goes. But they ain’t gonna get hurt, are they? I reckon there’ll be a civil war break out around here if the trouble gets any worse.”

  “At least the trail-hands are fighting among themselves,” Merrill said.

  “So far,” Gwynn reminded. “But can you imagine what’s gonna happen when more herds come this way and the town fills up with fifty, maybe sixty tough cowpunchers?”

  “I don’t have to imagine it,” Merrill said, turning away from his horse. “I’ve seen it happen. But it ain’t none of my business, Herb. I got my spread out of town, and if there is trouble around here then the men who voted for the spur line can sort it out. Come on, Lonnie. Let’s take a walk along the street and look around. See you later, Herb.”

  They left the liveryman standing in the doorway of the big barn, still keen to discuss the latest developments, and Merrill smiled sourly as he looked around the street. Lonnie was eager to go along to the cattle-pens, but Merrill paused in the doorway of the general store, which was run by Luke Parry and his daughter Kay. Merrill’s harsh expression eased a little as he peered into the gloomy interior of the store and caught a glimpse of the smart figure and pretty face of Kay. So there was talk around town that Kay would marry him if he asked! He drew a sharp breath and held it for a moment. No one could ever take the place of his wife, he knew. He missed her very much, but life had to go on and Lonnie could certainly do with a woman’s influence. He was having a tough time bringing up the boy on his own and running a ranch, even though he had Pop Lorimer to help. But although Pop was like an old woman in some respects, he was not the ideal companion for an impressionable boy of eight.

  “Want some candy, Lonnie?” he demanded.

  “Yes please, Pa. But I’d much rather go along the street to the cattle-pens.”

  “You’ve seen cattle-pens before, and cattle,” Merrill said, leading the way into the store, and they stood waiting for Kay to finish serving a woman customer to some cloth.

  Kay Parry glanced up as Merrill’s big figure darkened the doorway, and she nodded and smiled a greeting without taking her attention from the customer. Merrill touched his hat brim with a long forefinger, his keen gaze upon Kay, who was tall, dark and slender. She was twenty-seven and had never been serious about any man, although a number of the locals had been trying to court her for years. Merrill sensed her interest in him, and felt embarrassed by it although she had never shown any favor towards him.

  “Help yourself to some candy, Lonnie,” Kay called as the boy walked towards the counter.

  “Thanks, Miz Parry,” the boy replied, and Merrill stood watching his son, taking in the conglomeration of smells emanating from the interior of the store. The place was like Aladdin’s cave, with merchandise of every kind either stacked on the countless shelves or hanging from hooks in the ceiling.

  “Hi there, Ward!” Kay’s father, Luke, a tall, spare man of fifty-three, emerged from a back room and paused in front of Merrill. He had graying hair but thick, black, bushy eyebrows, and his brown eyes were keen and alert beneath their shadows. “Heard about the shooting in town last night?”

  “Sure did. Herb Gwynn near busted his gut telling me. But it’s no more than I expected.”

  Luke Parry shook his head. He was the town mayor as well as owning the store, and he had been a leading light in the demand to have the railroad come into town.

  “There’s always trouble of one kind or another around here,” he said stubbornly. “So a couple of cowhands shot at each other! So it happens nearly every weekend when we have the dance in the barn.”

  “But the local men don’t try to kill one another,” Merrill retorted. “Don’t try to whitewash the affair to me, Luke. I told you what you could expect when the herds started coming.”

  “Well, I got to see the sheriff. Perhaps you’ll drop by at his office when you’ve finished here, Ward. Oakley was saying that if you didn’t ride into town some time today or tomorrow then he’d have to ride out to see you. I’ll tell him you’re around.”

  “Why does he want to see me?” Merrill narrowed his eyes. “We don’t have any business to discuss.”

  “There’s been a suggestion made that we have some special deputies sworn in who will step forward if there is any big trouble. They would be paid a nominal sum every month, and have no duties except be ready in case they’re needed.”

  “And Walt wants to ask me to be one of these special deputies, huh?” Merrill shook his head. “No deal. I gave up that kind of work when I turned to ranching. If this town gets into trouble then it can get itself out of it. You all knew the risks when you gave the railroad the go-ahead.”

  “That ain’t a public-spirited attitude, Ward,” Parry said sternly.

  “Are you gonna be one of these special deputies?” Merrill demanded.

  “Well!” Parry looked uncomfortable for a moment. “Hell, I’m an old man compared with most aound here. Being a special deputy is a younger man’s job.”

  “And you’ll be here raking in the extra business the trail-hands will bring while others are out there on the street, trying to keep order,” Merrill retorted, smiling thinly. “Sure, Luke, I see.”

  “I got to go,” Parry said, and turned towards the door. “See you later.”

  Merrill sighed heavily and returned his attention to Kay, for the woman customer was leaving. Kay had gone along the counter to where Lonnie was looking at the candy, and she served the boy, who turned to look at his father.

  “Can I go along the street, Pa?” he pleaded.

  “Okay, but stay short of the cattle-pens, and don’t get into mischief. I’ll be along there shortly to pick you up. Mind what I say, huh?”

  “You bet!” Lonnie darted out to the sidewalk, sucking a sugar stick, and Merrill smiled indulgently, reaching into his pocket for some money with which to pay for the candy, but Kay lifted a hand.

  “That’s all right, Ward. Lonnie’s a good boy, and he deserves a luxury now and again.” Her face was pleasant although her eyes were filled with a mixture of emotions. She studied his harshly set face and wondered what was going through his mind. “So you heard about the killing in town last night! Well, you told folks around here what to expect.”

  “I guess I said too much at the time,” he replied, shaking his head. “It wasn’t really any of my business, but I figured folks wanted to know what I thought, and I am a member of this community now.”

  “You’ve been a member for a long time, and a very respectable and respected one at that,” She spoke seriously. “Will you be coming into town on Saturday evening?”

  “I don’t know. I have to bring Lonnie with me, and I don’t think I’ll want him in town with drunken cowpokes wandering around.”

  “There are a lot of folks talking like that now. I suppose it’s only natural. But if the trail-hands fight among themselves then I don’t think there will be much for us to worry about.”

  “It could get a lot worse than last night,” he responded. “Sometimes those trail-hands ride in firing their guns indiscriminately, riding their broncs along the sidewalks and generally raising hell for its own sake. You haven’t seen the half of it yet.”

  “I wish they had listened to you.” She broke off as a footstep sounded in the doorway, and Merrill glanced around when a dark shadow caught his glance.

  Silas Kester, the town marshal, came into the store. He was a tall man, almost as big as Merrill, and he had dark eyes and black hair. A thick, bushy moustache adorned his upper lip. He wore a dark brown store suit and a holstered sixgun strapped on his right th
igh. He was around thirty, a tough man handling a hard job, but there was something about him that Merrill had never liked. He was under the impression that Kester was jealous of his past reputation, for there was never the opportunity around town to attempt to equal Merrill’s past exploits.

  “Just saw your boy along the sidewalk,” Kester said in a chesty voice. “Figured you would be in here. Do you know that the sheriff wants to talk about you taking a law star?”

  “Luke just mentioned it to me,” Merrill said firmly, “and I don’t want any part of it. I got a ranch and a son to take care of, and I figure I ain’t doing too well with those right now.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short,” Kay protested. “I think you’re doing a very good iob. Your ranch is prospering, and Lonnie would be a credit to any family.”

  “Maybe, but I’m only a father to him. He sure misses having a mother, and there’s nothing I can do about that.”

  “There’s speculation that you might get married again,” Kester said, his dark gaze upon Kay’s lovely face, and the girl reddened slightly and turned away to check some shelves.

  “I’m not interested in what other folks think,” Merrill said sharply. “They should mind their own business. Maybe if they attended to what concerned them there wouldn’t be a crisis developing in town.”

  “Well, you told them all what to expect, so you should be feeling pretty good right now. But then a man of your experience would know what he’s talking about.” Kester turned to the counter. “I’ll take a box of .45 slugs, Kay, please.”

  Merrill studied the town marshal’s profile, wondering if he was being sarcastic or not. He knew that Kester had a soft spot for Kay, and wondered if that was the reason why the local lawman did not like him. But it was not important. He did not care what Kester thought of him.

  “I’ll see you again before pulling out, Kay,” he said, and went out to the street.