RETRIBUTION: - GlenMarcus (best summer reads TXT) 📗

walked in.
“You mean coffee and not that tar that Luke makes?”
“Mind your manners deputy. I can’t help it if you drag in to work whenever it suits you.’
Saluting and clicking his heels at attention Doug replied, “Sir, yes sir!”
“So Luke, what is all this about somebody gunnin’ for you?”
Doug, still in the dark about the new information turned to the sheriff and said, “What’s Smitty talking about?”
“I didn’t have a chance to say anything but after you left this morning I got a wire from a Texas Ranger friend of mine down in Fort Worth. He basically said that an outlaw named Dawson Ricketts broke out of prison with some help from the outside.”
“So he’s carrying a grudge for you?” Doug asked.
“Well, let me back up and lay out what happened. A little over a year ago, I was riding for an outfit in Pittsburg, Texas. The old man that owned the place was a square dealer. He took a shine to me and I was sitting pretty. Then one day about a half a dozen riders hit his place when all of us hands were out gathering up his herd. We were just far enough away to hear the shooting. By the time we got back to the ranch, they’d killed him and his wife.”
“So it was this Ricketts fella?”
“It was. I tracked him and two of his brothers all the way to Nacogdoches before I caught up to them. It took killing both of his brothers, but when I got Dawson cornered, he gave it up. I rode with the marshal when he took Ricketts back to Pittsburg to stand trial.
Doug sat quietly as Luke kept talking.
“Smitty,” he continued, “In all my days, I have never seen anything like it. The whole two day ride back, Ricketts never said a word. He’d look at me with a hate so thick you could almost taste it. Though he should have hanged, his lawyer got him off with a life sentence.”
“So I reckon he ain’t forgave you for bringin’ him in?”
“Or for plugging his two younger brothers either. The only thing he said to me after the trial was for me to ‘watch my back.”
“Well what’s gonna keep him from huntin’ you down.”
“Nothing now I guess unless the Texas Rangers get him first.” Noticing the younger deputy silence during his explanation the sheriff asked, “Doug you’re not saying much.”
“Oh, I’m just thinking what I would do if I was in his shoes.”
“And what would that be?”
“If I was close as Texas to the border, I believe Mexico would be the smart place to lay low. But is he smart or eat up with revenge?”
“I’d say Ricketts is above average. He broke out of Huntsville prison and that’s not an easy task,” added Luke.
“But with all them headlines you been getting’, it ain’t like you’re going to be hard to find,” said John.
“So how are we gonna play it boss?”
“Well, I figure if he and his bunch are headed this way, it would take at least a week and a half of hard riding. I don’t expect them to be catching any trains since the Rangers will have them bottled up. I’ve sent wires out to see if there has been any signs of them, so until we hear back, y’all keep your eyes peeled for any strangers in town. And keep this under your hats. We don’t need any of this information in the blessed newspapers.”


A good card game was just the thing to settle a fine meal and all that he had on his mind. It had been a fairly quiet Saturday night and the gambling room at the Monarch Hotel was the usual place for just such a settling. Sheriff Luke Wallace had a passion for games of chance and a real flair for poker. After playing for almost two hours, the lawman was ready to call it a night.
“I’ll take two,” said the sheriff as tossed the useless discards into the muck. Don Anderson, one of the town elders, slid a pair of cards face down in sheriff’s direction. Getting the best cards was sometimes only a small part of winning at five card draw. Without looking at the new additions, he slid them under the other three neatly stacked in front of him. The remaining four men at the table shed their rejects and the bet was to Luke.
“Well fellas, I think the price of poker just went up.”
Taking a puff on his pipe and then tapping the bowl out on his boot heel, Zach Robertson ask rhetorically, “You aren’t even going to look at them are you?
“Don’t need to. Twenty dollars is the bet boys.”
The two cowboys to Luke’s left folded immediately. Zach reluctantly called after a moment of reflection. Don, commenting something under his breath about the sheriff’s luck, raised twenty dollars more.
With a low grunt, the lawman made a move towards his cards and then stopped short. “Tell you what. Since this is my last hand of the night anyway, how about we make this interesting? I have fifty dollars here that says I walk away a winner tonight.”
“Dang you Luke,” as Zach picked up his cards, looked at them for the last time and chunked them in the middle of the table.
An additional thirty dollar raise meant very little to the owner of the new Laramie Flatts Bank and Trust, so Anderson gladly called. “I believe you can look at those cards now.”
Luke, as if he was peeling a ripe California orange, turned the cards slowly over one at a time. The first three were queens and then he stopped. “Can you beat trip queens Don?”
Don’s grin now widened a bit, holding his cards in his hand. Though the sheriff didn’t show it, he was a bit concerned. Turning the next card over, it was a deuce. The grin on the banker’s face now grew into an all out smile, feeling he would have a nice deposit to make to his own vault on Monday morning.
Pausing for a second, Luke, in his usual nonchalant style asked, “You sure you’re straight’s going to hold up?”
Sounding as if he was late for an important appointment, Zach almost shouted from across the table, “Turn the damn card over already!”
Luke snapped the final card with his thumb and middle finger and it popped straight up, landing atop the chips in the center of the table. The two of spades. With an internal sigh of relief he said, “Looks like my queens built themselves a boat, banker man.”
If you had looked up the word ‘disgusted’ in old Noah Webster’s Dictionary, you would have found a photograph of Don Anderson at that moment. His jack high flush was now a loser. Gathering his winnings, the sheriff stood up, much to the pleasure of the rest of most of the players. Luke tipped his hat and walked towards the lobby of the hotel. Zach also stood and said he’d had enough for the night. He shouted for Luke to wait a moment as he had something to discuss with him.
“You are the luckiest man in this state.”
Whoa there, we’re still a territory or don’t you read your own newspaper.” As Luke referred to the ‘Flatts Gazette’, in which Robertson was the owner and editor.
“Technicalities, technicalities. The Colorado Constitution will pass the state vote. It won’t be long now.”
“I reckon. Grant wants his treasury to get a cut off all this silver, so it’ll happen.”
“The only thing that can stall it now might be the repercussions of the Black Hills War. Indians always seem to get in the way.”
Luke paused for a moment, reflecting on Zach’s statement. “What did you need to talk about? A man with this much money in his pocket doesn’t need to be walking around unguarded. I’m headed for bed.”
“Yuckity Yuck. Rub it in. Your day will come and I hope I’m there to see it.”
“Promises, promises.”
“The story that Clermont wrote about you was picked up back east. I suppose people liked reading about how you cleaned out the Bradford’s.”
This didn’t set well with Luke as he never saw it as ‘cleaning out’ of anyone. He did his job as a lawman and put the criminals in jail. “Hell Zach, I never met that Clermont fella and he made up most of it. You know I wasn’t in favor of him writing that piece. It was just a dime novel story that I wouldn’t pay a penny for. He was just cashing in on the statehood angle”
“You’ve been here what, eight or nine months? This town owes you a great debt in just that short a period of time and besides you’ve made quite a name for yourself.”
“Well I don’t know about that. I’m just doing my job, that’s all.”
“Oh, I think it’s more than that. Nathan Bradford had this town in a strangle hold. You came in and stood up to him when most of us just cowered in the corner, waiting for him to tell us how high to jump.”
“You forget, it wasn’t me who put old Nathan in his grave. It was his son, Jacky. All I did was straighten out the mess he started by trying to take over his father’s little empire here.”
“By putting a .45 slug in his head.’
“Well that’s one way to get the job done I guess. Anyways, I’m not looking to get any kind of notoriety. Nathan’s land is in his other son’s possession now. Most of the stores and this hotel he owned have changed hands. I say we just put it behind us and move on.”
“Whatever you say Luke, but I am not giving up and I want a follow up story. People will want to know more about the fine sheriff we have in this town. Once statehood hits, we’re going grow like wildfire and for people to move here, they need to feel safe. Think of it as a chance to help our town grow.”
“Yeah I think of it more as a publicity stunt. The elders let me hire a good deputy and we can handle this town. You just worry about spelling all your words right and find you some other person to put on the front page.”
“Well you think about it and I’ll get with you later,” as Zach headed for the front doors of the Monarch.
“Not if I can help it,” chuckled Luke as he headed up the stairs to his room.
As Luke lay there in bed, he contemplated Zach’s words about what happened a few months ago. Maybe the town did owe him something. Maybe it didn’t. The sheriff’s job had been a good fit for him. Luke’s mind drifted back to his encounter with Ricketts and his brothers. As much as he would like to shove it out of his mind, he couldn’t. If the outlaw was coming for him, he’d get here soon enough. But it was late and Luke was tired. He finally drifted off into a deep sleep where the troubles he faced couldn’t find him in dreams.
Sleep would have been harder if he only knew that Ricketts would cross over into Colorado territory tomorrow. Securing Marsh Emerson’s poke was enough to get the four outlaws to their destination of British Columbia, far away from their troubles in Texas.

Sunday June 25th

Sunday morning came and went like it usually did. After a good long morning ride, it was back to have a bite of breakfast and try to take it easy. It was a kind of “reloading” day for the sheriff. While the drunks slept off their