Shooting For Justice, G. Tilman [best historical fiction books of all time .txt] 📗

“I won’t ask how you got involved in all of this,” Pope said.”

“Good. Then, I won’t have to lie to a friend.”

“When will your, or maybe our, meeting with him happen?”

“It has to in next couple of days. I told him we were going back to Virginia soon and if he wanted an answer, it would be at our convenience not his.”

“If he does not gracefully accept the truth, I fear I will have to kill him in self-defense,” Kane said.

“I had the same thought. The problem is he would be identified and how you came to have to shoot him would be a question asked you in court. If you have to kill him, you will have to dispose of his body in such a way it will never be found.”

“Then, I will have to plan the meeting in a dark, deserted area.”

“Yes,” Pope agreed, adding, “You will need at least a buckboard with a big enough bed to handle a body. Is he a big man?”

“He’s not as tall as you or I, but still tall. He is medium build. Not an easy body to hide.”

“Your story is true. He should accept it.”

“He’s a nutcase though, John. We will have to play it by ear.”

“Let me know when. I will be available.”

“Thanks, my friend, I appreciate it,” Kane said as they walked back to the wedding party.

“Sheriff, are you hiring any girl deputies?” Martha Lane asked.

“I’m not sure, Miss Martha. I have not really started yet and gotten the lay of the land,” Pope replied pleasantly.

“How are your trail riding and shooting skills?” he asked.

“I can ride. Astride, not sidesaddle. I need to learn how to shoot. Will you teach me?”

“You come out here one weekend, and Sarah and I will do a trail ride and some shooting. She’s the better instructor.”

“I’m almost nineteen now. What should I buy?” she asked.

“Try some of ours before deciding. It’s all about what feels right to you,” Sarah answered.

Mattie stood back listening. She was behaving. It was obvious she was going to come along on this jaunt, though it was Martha who had spoken at length with Sarah about going into law enforcement. Pope remembered the two in summer nightgowns in Sarah’s bed, talking and giggling. Mattie could be a problem, he feared. Less so since he was not employed by Wells Fargo. She must be almost eighteen he thought.

Both had partnered for the night shift when he was in the hospital recovering from two bullet wounds gotten rescuing Mattie. They had been a godsend with the hours Sarah had spent. Grandpa had sat out front of the hospital with Pope’s dog, Scout, on guard all night. They had coalesced like a family. Then, Mattie’s teenage infatuation matured into something more graphically serious. She knew Pope had Sarah. But they were not married. They were only ten years different in age. She gave it her best effort. Her frequent letters were informative and mature. They were also lusty as hell. Pope was in a bit of a spot. He hoped the letters would subside with the marriage. Time would tell. The looks she was giving him did not seem to bode well for it to happen anytime soon.

Scout adored Mattie, so at least he kept her busy scratching his ears and telling him what a handsome pup he was. Pope determined to give him some additional beef or venison for a treat tonight. It was not the first time Scout had saved Pope’s bacon.

The Kanes were staying at a guest house in San Rafael. Israel took them back in the buckboard. Kane and Pope agreed to meet in the morning. Booth had already come to San Rafael, but Kane was unaware of his whereabouts. The town was small, but he was nowhere to be seen. Both Kane and Pope kept a sharp eye around the church and later the woods near Israel’s cabin for the reception. Neither saw the fugitive assassin. Pope decided it would be injudicious to make any inquiries in town and raise curiosity.

Normally, Pope would have enlisted Israel to help watch. Nobody could have been better. But he did not want to involve his grandfather in what had every indication of becoming a criminal conspiracy. One which might end in murder.

People began to leave after the Kanes. The Lanes were next. They were staying in town. The last ferry across the Bay had left hours ago.

Pope and Sarah felt for Joseph, or Joe, Lane and his two daughters having to travel with Harriett Lane. Her expression had become more pinched and intolerant in the months since the kidnapping.

Millie spent some time talking with her former employer. She told her husband, stepson and daughter-in-law later she thought Mrs. Lane was ill. She remembered her as being a stern but tolerable woman. She had gotten much worse in the last two years. Millie ended with saying she felt sorry for her and the people around her but did not miss her mood swings and narrow-minded comments at all.

Pope wondered how a narrow-minded woman could bear such an alarmingly open daughter.

A night deputy came riding fast into the Pope spread around midnight.

“Sheriff! Somebody has shot up the small hotel where your guests are staying. Nobody is hurt, but the shooter got away!”

Israel came out in his night shirt, shotgun in hand.

“Grandpa. There is somebody with a grief against Kane. He told me about it. They could come here. Could you saddle Caesar and one other horse. Saddlebags and canteen, please. And would you kindly stay here and watch out for Millie and Sarah?”

Before Sarah could raise the expected objections about not arming up and riding, Pope was riding at full gallop with his deputy. They cleared the four miles back to San Rafael.

He found Kane patrolling around in the dark with the long-barreled Colt.

“Was it your friend?” he asked Kane.

“I didn’t get a good look. I would guess so. Who else is crazy enough