A Wanted Man’s Vow (Preview)

Chapter One

“Unless you’ve come in to have a drink with me, go ahead and leave the way you came in. I ain’t in the mood to hear it, Jack.”

Jack looked at Billy, hunched over the bar. He’d spent the morning cursing him for not showing up to help fix Compton’s fence and bring hay out to the rancher’s cows. Jack was capable of handling these duties on his own, and in truth, not having to split the pay wouldn’t hurt his wallet. If anything, letting a kid like Billy tag along was a detriment, especially considering how tight the old rancher was with his coins. He liked Billy, though, and while he was as green as they come when it came to ranch work, he was strong, smart, and willing to learn. He asked a lot of questions, but so far, none about Jack’s past. That was something Jack liked in a person.

He was the kind of kid who came out West seeking his fortune, who might actually make a fortune someday. He was a welcome relief from the usual drifters and no-accounts who moved from town to town picking up work until they wore out their welcome and hit the trail again. People on the road to nowhere but another road. People like Jack.

 Sitting on a bar stool at Big Red’s Saloon and Tavern, Billy looked the opposite of smart and ambitious.

Jack considered walking out. He liked Billy, but soon enough, Compton would run out of odd jobs and Jack would move on. Compton might offer him a full-time job. It wouldn’t be the first time, but like all the others, Jack would politely decline and move on to the next ranch town. If he ever stayed in one spot too long, someone might ask him where he came from.

He took a seat on the barstool next to Billy.

It was early for the bar business. Red’s was located at what would be properly described as a crossroads. Other than ranch hands and travelers on their way to nearby Tucson, they didn’t get much business. It was the kind of place Jack used to like back when he was more of a drinker. Back when some amber fluid made him forget. Somewhere along the line, the whiskey started bringing back more memories than it suppressed. He didn’t indulge much anymore.

They had the place to themselves. Red himself, who wasn’t any redder than milk and was pretty much the opposite of big, asked, “What can I get for you?” 

“I’ll have what he’s having.”

Billy turned from his empty glass and looked at Jack. “I didn’t know you drank.”

“I didn’t know you did either.”

Billy looked at Red and pointed at his empty glass.

“You sure about that, son?” Red asked.

“I ain’t your son.”

“I didn’t mean no offense by it,” Red said with a smile. “Just asking a question.”

“Hell, I ain’t even drunk yet.”

Red looked as if he had more to say but kept whatever he was thinking to himself. Instead, he found a bottle of whiskey and poured a glass for Jack before giving Billy a refill.

Jack held up his glass, and Billy clinked his against it. As he turned, Billy’s jacket lifted. Jack saw the gun holstered on his hip. He’d never seen Billy carrying a sidearm. Jack didn’t know the kid even owned a gun.

“What are we drinking to?” Jack asked.

“Robert. We’re drinking to Robert.”

“To Robert,” Jack said. He took a sip of the whiskey. It’d been a while, but the familiar burn going down his throat was strangely comforting.

Billy put down the entire shot glass. The look on his face said he found nothing comforting about the burn.

Billy motioned to Red for another, but Red pretended not to notice. 

Before Billy could call out, Jack asked, “Robert’s your brother, right?”

Billy turned to him. His face darkened. He looked back to his empty glass before saying, “He was.”

“Something happened to him?”

Billy nodded. 

“I’m sorry to hear that, Billy.”

“Why? It wasn’t your fault.”

“I’m sorry, just the same.”

Jack was tempted to ask what happened, but he knew he wouldn’t have to.

Billy looked at Red. “Hey, what’s a guy have to do to get a drink around here?”

Red walked over slowly. He grabbed the bottle but didn’t pour the drink.

When Billy glared at him, Red said, “I’ve been doing this a long time, and before that, I was a gambler. I made my living reading men’s faces.”

“I hope you were better at it than you are at pouring drinks.”

“I was. Which is why I can see you’re in here drinking because you’re gearing up for something. Something bad. Something I suspect you’ll regret.”

“That last part is where you’re wrong.”

“No one ever fortifies themselves with whiskey to make a good decision.”

“The only decision that concerns you is the one I made to have another drink.”

Red looked at Jack, and Jack gave him a slight nod.

Red poured the drink then walked away.

Billy stared at it for a bit before turning to Jack. “The marshal was in town this morning. He caught up with me at the bunkhouse.”

Jack sipped some of his whiskey before asking, “You in trouble, Billy?”

“No. He wasn’t here about anything I’d done. He was here to tell me about Robert.”

“Robert do something?”

Billy shook his head and sipped some whiskey.

“Only his job,” Billy said after the firewater made its way to his stomach, “you know I came out West because of him. He was here first, sending letters home about working cattle drives. He made it sound like the best thing ever. He made this sound like a place where a man could make something of himself, where nobody cared who your daddy was or where you went to school.”

“I wouldn’t say cattle drives are the best thing ever,” Jack told him, “but he wasn’t wrong about the other part.”

“Sure, work hard and get rewarded.”

“It works that way sometimes.”

“Sometimes, though, you’re working hard, moving cattle for some fat cat rancher, and some low-down rustler decided to take them from you.”

“It happens.”

“Sometimes, since men hang for that kind of thing, they kill the witnesses.”

“That happens too. Is that what happened to Robert?

Billy nodded and drank some more whiskey.

Jack drank as well.

“It ain’t right,” Billy said as he wiped away some tears.

“No, it ain’t. Is that why you’re here with iron on your hip, filling your belly with Red’s whiskey?”

“I can’t bring him back, but I can make it right.”

“How are you going to do that, exactly?”

“You know Emillio?”

“‘Course I do.”

“He told me he saw the brand of the ranch my brother was working for at Compton’s. Someone put another brand over it, but Emillio has been branding cattle since he was ten. He says he can tell the age of a brand just by the color. He says he can see the bar L under the new brand the seller used to pass off stolen cattle.”

“He tell this to the marshal?”

“He did, but the marshal don’t think much of Mexicans. He couldn’t see it, so he refused to believe Emillo could.”

Jack nodded. The marshal was a fool. He said to Billy, “I’ll tell him. He’ll believe me. It won’t hurt his ego as badly if it’s me seeing something he couldn’t.”

“I appreciate that, Jack. I really do, but this isn’t something I think I can leave for somebody else to deal with. This is my brother we’re talking about. I know who sold Compton those steers. He’s staying in the hotel, paying for his room in Robert’s blood money.”

“That’s what the gun is for?”

“Damn right.”

“You ever shot a man before, Billy?”

“There’s a first time for everything.”

“You considering this might not be the man at the hotel’s first time? You considering he probably wasn’t the man who actually stole the steers and killed your brother?”

“I have considered all those things. As for the first, he won’t see me coming. As for the second, I’ll ask him if I get the chance. If I don’t, he has friends and family. I’ll find them and ask them too.”

“If they don’t want to tell you?”

Billy tapped the butt of his pistol. “Then that’ll be their last mistake.”

Billy looked at Red, but Jack put his hand over his glass. “Maybe you’ve had enough.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Red’s right, you’re trying to drink yourself enough courage to do something you’re going to regret.”

“I have all the courage I need. I’m just having a drink before I go do what has to be done.”

“Revenge.”

“Yeah, revenge.”

“That’s not a road you want to go down, trust me.”

“What would you know about it?”

Chapter One

They’d just moved nearly three thousand head of cattle from Cedar Falls to San Antonio. Jack Morrison served as trail boss, overseeing a dozen cowboys, as well as a cook and a wrangler who took care of the horses.

It was never easy moving that many head of cattle, and that many men could cause a headache or two over the long ride, but it had gone about as well as he could have hoped. With the beef delivered on time and in good condition, Jack was heading back home to Cedar Springs flush with cash. Enough that he and Marie could easily make it through the winter even if she decided to quit her job at the school.

He wouldn’t encourage her to stop working, though, even if he had twice the amount in his saddlebags. 

Marie loved children, and fate seemed to have decided she wouldn’t have any of her own. Being a mentor to other people’s children seemed to fill that gap for her.

Jack was fine with this. He wasn’t sure he’d be a good father. He certainly hadn’t had any good role models growing up. His parents had fallen victim to cholera when both he and his sister were young. After that, they were on their own. He’d like to think they had done all right raising themselves, but while he’d certainly become a respectable person in his community, he’d taken a long and crooked path to get there.

He tried not to think too much about it, but before he met Marie and settled down in Cedar Falls, he’d done enough dirty deeds to earn a trip to the gallows ten times over.  

All of that, however, was in the past. He was a trusted trail boss, and even though it was just the two of them, he was a family man. He even got dressed up and went to church on Sunday.

On a good day, he could convince himself all of that could have happened even if he hadn’t started off with a rather large stake of money liberated from a variety of banks all over the territory.

He wasn’t thinking about any of that as he led his horse, Barley, to the barn and made sure the tired beast had more than enough feed and water. He was thinking about Marie. He was thinking about her long legs and doing things with her that would get her fired from her job and both of them kicked out of church if they weren’t doing them behind closed doors.

He had to admit he was kind of surprised and a little disappointed she hadn’t come out to meet him as he rode up. He’d missed her the whole time he was gone and liked to think she missed him just as much. He knew if their situations were reversed, he’d have met her half up the trail.

He didn’t let it bother him much. She could be preparing a nice supper or better waiting in the bedroom. Even though it was late in the day and it had been a while since he’d eaten, he hoped it was the latter.

He walked inside, saying, “I’m home.”

No one replied. He moved to the kitchen first. No Marie, and no signs of a meal being prepared. He noticed a chair overturned but didn’t think much of it.

Jack smiled and went to the bedroom. No Marie in there either.

For the first time since he arrived, he noticed an odd breeze moving through his cabin. Jack followed it and saw his back door was wide open. He was concentrating on the door, so he didn’t notice Marie’s sewing supplies on the floor until he kicked a knitting needle,

He could see Marie going out to the back. She had a nice garden out there. She could be picking something for dinner as he stood there staring at the doorway. He couldn’t imagine that she would be so enthralled choosing vegetables she wouldn’t have noticed he came home. Even if that were possible, he couldn’t picture her leaving the door open. The evening chill was starting to creep up, and she preferred it stay outside. 

He couldn’t see her leaving her sewing kit on the floor either.

For the first time since he got home, Jack began to worry.

He called out, “Marie?”

As before, he got no answer.

Jack moved to the door. He looked out and saw Marie face down on the wooden porch they’d built together. He called her name again, but she didn’t reply.

As he got closer, he saw the blood on her dress. It wasn’t until he reached her that he saw how wet her auburn hair was. He knelt and put his hand on her shoulder. She was cold and didn’t respond to his touch. 

He still shook her and said her name again. Again, she didn’t reply.

Unfortunately, he knew from experience what bullet wounds looked like. Marie had two of them. One in her back and the other in the back of her head. Both could have killed her. Which one actually had didn’t matter. When he first saw her, he was thinking about how fast he could ride to town and fetch a doctor. There was no need for that now. No one had to hurry to fetch the undertaker.

He didn’t want to think about it, but as he stood up, he couldn’t help it. Someone had come to the house, and Marie had run from them. She’d made it out the door, but somebody shot her in the back and then in the back of the head to be sure she wouldn’t be getting back up.

Jack sat on his porch and, for the first time since his parents died, he cried.

After he ran out of tears, he took the body inside, just because leaving her outside seemed wrong. He’d put her on their bed and then go looking for the bottle he kept around. He’d drink himself into a stupor tonight and figure out what to do about Marie in the morning.

He was so busy being sad, who did this and why hardly crossed his mind.

Then he saw the old wanted poster on the bed with his face on it. 

Jack gently set Marie down and picked up the poster. It had been a long time since he’d seen one of these. 

He’d never thought the picture was the best resemblance. His old gang leader, Iron John Henderson, said the drawing made him look far too handsome. While, according to Iron John, he was uglier, the drawing was close enough. Someone looking at his face next to the poster could get the idea they were the same person. Especially since the height and weight listed below were right on the money.

If this poster had made its way to Cedar Falls, he could be in trouble.

The name under his face was one he didn’t use anymore for obvious reasons. “Savage” Sam Rivers wasn’t his given name, but the name of a dead man, minus the “Savage” part, whose name Jack used when he started operating outside of the law. The name didn’t matter much. No one would believe a notorious outlaw would keep on using the name he was wanted under.

It wouldn’t take long, if someone started asking about his past, before his story broke down. He could tell people he’d spent the previous years moving cattle around Tucson because no one would bother to check. Unless another Jack Morrison was working as a cowboy, chances were good no one ever heard of him.

They might have heard of Savage Sam Rivers, however.

The list of crimes was long. Mostly thievery of one kind or another, but murder was there too. Including the deaths of two deputies outside of San Angelo. If the list were cut in half, there would still be multiple things they would hang him for.

It was nothing he was proud of, though there was a time when he would have been. 

He stared at it, wondering if Marie came across it somewhere and started to put things together. It saddened him to think she might have left the world thinking her husband was a low-down outlaw. 

He couldn’t help thinking this had something to do with her death, though he couldn’t put together how or why.

Then he saw the mark on the headboard. He’d been so intent on first, finding Marie and then on the poster, he hadn’t noticed it the first time he looked in the bedroom.

Someone burned a raindrop shape into the headboard above the bed they shared.

He no longer had to wonder who did this and why. He knew the answer to both right away.

It was the mark of the Blackwater Gang. The one he ran with back in his bank-robbing days.

Seeing the mark broke Jack out of his stupor. The wanted poster on the bed he and Marie shared made sense now. It wasn’t enough to take Marie away from him. They wanted him to know they did it.

 Seeing his old gang’s mark made him think more like a criminal again. Instead of drinking himself silly, he rode to town and found the sheriff. If he didn’t report her death, people might start thinking he had something to do with it.

He also wanted to see if the sheet for Savage Sam Rivers was posted anywhere in town. The one he’d found on the bed was folded up and in his pocket. When he got the chance, it would make its way to the fireplace.

He didn’t see any posters with his face on them in town or at the Sheriff’s office. When he stepped inside, Sheriff Coleman greeted him as if he were an old friend instead of a wanted criminal. 

Until Jack said, “Someone killed Marie.”

The old sheriff sprang into action then. Mobilizing some deputies and heading out to Jack’s place. He’d told Jack to stay put, but Jack didn’t listen and followed them back. 

Word got around fast. It wasn’t long after Sheriff Coleman and his small posse arrived, half the town was there as well. The people of Cedar Falls loved their schoolteacher. Jack and Sheriff Coleman kept them out of the house as the deputies removed the body.

Jack sat on the porch and absorbed a string of condolences from his neighbors. While sincere, they did nothing to make him feel any better. If anything, the kindness of strangers made it worse. He didn’t deserve kindness. This was his fault.

More than one person remarked, “Why would anyone do that to Marie?”

Jack shook his head and lied to every single one of them, saying, “I have no idea.” 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his older sister, Elena. With his help, she’d opened a boarding house in town long before he gave up being Savage Sam Rivers and went back to being Jack Morrison. She was waiting back away from the house, letting everyone else talk to Jack first.

More than one person went to her to offer condolences. She accepted them politely, but Jack could tell she didn’t like the attention. She never had. Marie might have been nearly as big a loss for her as it was for Jack.

She’d been here Cedar Falls a long time. She was a successful business owner but didn’t participate in any town councils or the chamber of commerce.

She’d been forced to grow up fast. Elena was only three years older than Jack, but once they became orphans, she took the parent role. She wasn’t a bad-looking woman, but she never married, partially because she was taking care of Jack.

Though she never blamed him, he felt the bad hand life dealt her early on made her mean and bitter. By the time Jack wasn’t in her way, she’d become her own obstacle to companionship. Not just with potential suitors, but with most everyone else as well.

The fact that, despite her efforts, Jack became a notorious bank robber and murderer didn’t help her attitude.

Until Jack married Marie, he didn’t think his sister had a single friend. Marie didn’t let Elena’s bitter demeanor drive her away, and perhaps with Jack leaving the outlaw life behind, Elena’s hard edges began to soften. The two women soon became best friends.

 He didn’t think he’d ever seen her cry, even after they lost their parents. He found it comforting she could still shed a tear. He thought about calling her but stayed silent. Instead, he got up and went to her.

They hugged a long time before Jack moved away.

She didn’t ask him questions, which he appreciated.

He whispered, “I know who did this.”

She stepped back and wiped her eyes.

Before she could ask, he told her, “Blackwater Gang. My past caught up with me, only it wasn’t me who paid the price.”

“Don’t blame yourself,” she told him.

He was just about to argue the point with her, but instead he nodded and said, “I’m blaming them.”

Elena looked as if she had more to say, but Sheriff Coleman motioned to Jack that he wanted to speak with him.

Once Jack started over that way, Sheriff Coleman took a seat on the porch. The fact was, the rotund sheriff wasn’t used to being on his feet this long. Jack sat down next to him. 

“Does Marie keep the door locked?” he asked.

Jack shrugged. “We lock it at night.”

The sheriff nodded. “Anyone have an issue with Marie? Or you?”

Jack lied again. “Not that I know of. Did you see the raindrop burned into our headboard?” he asked.

“I did. I take it you didn’t put it there?”

“I did not.”

“You say that like it should mean something.”

“The Blackwater Gang. It’s their mark.”

“Blackwater Gang?”

“They robbed some banks.”

“Yeah, I remember hearing about them. They never made it this far, though. Word is they disbanded. How do you know about them?”

“Just something I ran across working cattle.”

“Why would some bank robbers want to kill our schoolmarm?”

Jack couldn’t bring himself to tell him. Instead, he said, “Why do people like that do anything?”

Coleman laughed. “Money, mostly. Speaking of which, did they take anything?”

“No. Wasn’t much to take to be honest. I was bringing home my pay from the drive when it happened.”

“Makes sense then. Whoever it was, they were early. I’d bet they came for your pay, but when you weren’t home, things went bad.”

“And they left the mark of the Blackwater Gang?”

“I don’t remember much about the Blackwater Gang, but I don’t think they were the type to rob a cowboy of a few weeks’ wages, even a trail boss’s wages. You knew their mark, I’d say whoever did this knew it too. They left it to distract me.”

Jack very much doubted that, but he couldn’t tell him why.

“Who knew you were coming home today?”

“No one. Cattle drives don’t always run on schedule. In fact, they almost never do.”

“How about this one?”

“A rare exception, only a day late.”

“That explains it. Whoever did this didn’t know the schedule wasn’t written in stone.”

“I reckon that’s possible.”

“I know it’s hard to think right now but try to make a list of who would know and who of them might do this to Marie.”

Jack replied, “I’ll do that,” even though he had no intention of doing any such thing.

He knew who it was, and he didn’t want Sheriff Coleman to take care of them. He wanted to do that himself.

Chapter Two

Of course, before he started that, he had a bottle to finish. 

Then another and another. By the time he’d drunk his fill, winter had arrived.

He still made it a point to show up at the saloon, but he didn’t drink as much anymore. He wanted it to look as if he did, though.

He figured Iron John and ‘Bull’ Garrison would be back to finish the job they started. The Blackwater gang had two other members: Coyote Mendez, an expert tracker who served mostly as a scout, and Professor Wilkins, a professional safe cracker who was the brains behind the operation. While both men could be dangerous in their own ways, neither was really a shooter. Jack didn’t see them coming to his house, looking to finish the job they started with his wife. Iron John and Bull, on the other hand, preferred to do their killing up close and personal.

He’d let them think he was a despondent drunk. It might give him just enough of an advantage to come out alive when they showed up. It wasn’t a hard role to play. Marie’s death didn’t haunt him every day, but every hour. Even sleep didn’t provide relief. He saw her in his dreams, asking why those men came to her house to kill her.

He wondered sometimes if he was fooling himself, thinking he was setting a trap when all he really was doing was letting himself waste away.

The fact was, if Elena didn’t bring him supper, all his calories might come from the bottle, even as he cut back so he could be ready for Bull and Iron John’s return. He neglected his duties at the ranch. If Elena hadn’t sold his cattle, he and his small herd of cows could have starved to death together.

Other than Elena, he hardly saw another human being that wasn’t serving him alcohol. Sheriff Coleman came around in the beginning, asking questions. He was stuck on his theory that someone showed up early to rob Jack of his cattle drive money. He had no interest in the Blackwater Gang angle. He seemed to think the raindrop was either irrelevant to Marie’s murder or a distraction put there by the real killer to throw the law off his trail.

Jack did nothing to dissuade him from this notion. 

The months went by, and he began to think they weren’t coming. Maybe they were afraid to return after committing such a heinous crime, or maybe they figured killing Jack’s wife was enough. Perhaps they’d gotten word of what he’d become, and instead of drawing them in, it made them decide to let him suffer.

They might have correctly surmised that living with the weight of what happened to sweet, innocent Marie was worse than death. Why would they want to do him a favor and put him out of his misery?’

Seemed they left Jack with a choice. Either put himself out of his misery or go hunt them down.

The way he was living made it clear he was going for option number one, only doing it slowly with booze, malnutrition, and depression instead of eating a bullet and getting it over with.

One night, he found himself holding the pendant he’d bought for Marie when he was courting her. The red ruby in the center was always her favorite. He put it away and realized he’d been fooling himself. He wasn’t setting a trap. He was justifying sitting around, feeling sorry for himself.

It was time to quit being Jack Morrison and go back to being Savage Sam Rivers.

With the pendant in his hand, he sat down in his old chair and remembered the last time he’d been Sam Rivers. The reason they’d come after him and taken his Marie away.

Chapter Three

Amarillo – Five years ago

Coyote Mendez was the last man to take a seat at the table. They were at an old Saloon outside of Amarillo, Texas. Each man had a drink and five cards in front of them, but not one was drinking or playing cards. There were chips on the table pushed to the center as if a game of five-card stud was going on. What they were really doing was planning how to take down a Farmers Co-op bank just down the street.

At the table were Bull Garrison, Iron John Henderson, Professor Wilkins, and Jack, though to everyone at the table, he was Sam Rivers. He’d never told any of them he was born Jack Morrison and never planned to.

Mendez picked up his cards and looked to Professor Wilkins. “You called it. They got a Mosler safe, but it’s the old one.”

Wilkins didn’t acknowledge what he said. He didn’t have to. They all knew this meant Wilkins could blow the hinges off with a couple of well-placed sticks of dynamite.

“My source says payday is tomorrow. They’re flush right now.”

Bull Henderson laughed, “The opposite of my hand then.”

Iron John kept his eyes on his cards as he asked, “They know what we have in mind?”