Pemberley Ranch (22 page)

“Phillips,” Fitz said. “But can’t he get another judge? Y’know—conflict of interest?”

Darcy nodded. “And he’s got to be able to prove
that,
too. There’s nothing easy about this—nothing at all. Lucas is in a trap.”

“So, what do we do?”

“There’s a town meeting called for tomorrow night. I aim to be there, and you can come along. Then we’ll see.” He half-turned and added, as if an afterthought, “Fitz, you might want to back off Lucas a little. It isn’t doing your suit for Miss Charlotte any good.”

Fitz’s jaw dropped. “How… how do you know about that?”

Gaby smiled from her seat in the carriage. “Oh, Fitz,
everybody
knows about that.” Darcy grinned as he took his seat next to his sister.

“See you back at the ranch, Fitz.” With a quick twitch of the reins, the horses pulled away, leaving an astonished Richard Fitzwilliam in its wake.

The next night found Thomas Bennet sitting in a pew next to Dr. Bingley in the Rosings Baptist Church, attending an emergency town meeting. Oil lamps and candles lit the interior of the church, the pews filled with shopkeepers, cowboys, and others. Most of the men in town were there, all talking about the attack on the Washingtons.

Bennet noticed George Whitehead standing with Judge Phillips, Kid Denny, and Billy Collins in a corner, talking amongst themselves. The sight bothered him, for Bennet had been deeply troubled by the incident at the cemetery. He had not known that Denny’s people had been bushwhackers in the war, and he was uneasy with George’s connection with them. He remembered that he had told Beth that she should put the war behind her, but what Quantrill had done was nothing but murder in Bennet’s eyes. He wasn’t sure he could forgive a man for that, and he didn’t like that George was friendly with one of those scoundrels.

To his surprise, he saw Will Darcy sitting with his foreman, Fitzwilliam, towards the back of the church. It was the first time Bennet could remember seeing Darcy attending any meeting concerning town business.

Mayor Zimmerman banged a gavel on the lectern and called the meeting to order. “As mayor of Rosings, I have called this town meeting to tell the people about what’s being done to catch the men who caused the uhh… unfortunate incident.”

“Unfortunate incident!” cried one man. “Cold-blooded murder is what I’d call it!” Others murmured their agreement.

“Uhh, yah, that’s what it looks like—sure.” Zimmerman, obviously nervous, wiped his forehead with a handkerchief. To Bennet the man seemed frightened. “I now call on Sheriff Lucas to give his report.”

The lawman made his way to the lectern. “There ain’t much to say right now, gentlemen,” Lucas stated. “My men and I were called to investigate a fire at the new settlement, an’ when we got there, we saw what had happened to the Washington family. The rain washed away most everything, but it was obvious from what hoof prints remained that there were at least a half-dozen men there. The McDaniels were the only witnesses. They told me afore they left town that they heard some gunshots, an’ by the time they got outside, the cross was lit, and they saw a bunch o’ riders headin’ east.”

“Heading east,” a man near Bennet pointed out. “Heading away from town. So they
were
outsiders.”

“I didn’t say that,” Lucas said. “There’s a lot we don’t understand. I’m asking for your help.”

“Are you going to form a posse?” asked Dr. Bingley.

“I would if I knew where to look. It don’t make any sense right now. I need more information.”

“What else do ya need to know?” cried Wilkerson. “That was done by the Klan. Ain’t nobody here in the Klan. The McDaniels said the riders were headed east. They done what they did, an’ there ain’t no reason for ’em to stay. I say that’s the end to it.”

“And I say you’re wrong!” said the blacksmith. “There’s killers running loose, an’ they could come back. We gotta
protect our families. Fellers that would do somethin’ like that are likely to do just about anything.” A general argument broke out amongst the men over Sheriff Lucas’s call for calm. Bennet watched the brouhaha for a couple of minutes before one clear voice was heard over the din.

“That’s enough, gentlemen.”

The noise in the church died out as Will Darcy stood up. Even ten pews away Bennet could feel the authority flowing from him. Darcy slowly surveyed the room before speaking again.

“We’ve heard a lot of talk and a lot of conjecture but very few facts. Sheriff Lucas here has told you what he knows, so let’s take a look at that. The Washington family was lynched in a fashion that has been used in the past by the Ku Klux Klan. They even had a burning cross in the yard. The only witnesses saw riders heading east. This is what we know.

“Now, there never has been Klan activity in Long Branch County or any county within a hundred miles. According to the newspaper, the army and the government in Austin put down the Klan in East Texas, where it had been strong, over two years ago. Yet, we’re supposed to believe that a roving band of Klansmen just happened to be in the county four days ago. Now I ask you, have we heard about a group of robed riders terrorizing the area? No, we have not. So, where did these supposed Klansmen come from?”

Denny spoke up. “You don’t believe it? Then what do
you
think happened, Darcy?”

Darcy glared at the gunman. “I think lots of things, Denny, and I dismiss nothing. When I know, then I’ll act. Until then, I ask all of you to consider one thing.” He paused as he looked about the church. “Who profits from this?” One could hear a pin
drop in the silence that followed. “I ask again—who profits from the murder of the Washingtons?”

Darcy took his seat, which seemed to electrify a perspiring Billy Collins. “See here, what are you saying?”

Edmund Bertram, the manager of Darcy Bank, spoke up. “You foreclosed on the Washington property, didn’t you, Collins?”

“Well, yes, but… but that was perfectly legal! There was no one left to pay the mortgage.” He grew angry. “You would have done the same thing in my shoes, Bertram. Don’t you deny it!”

“Eventually, but only after I exhausted all means of contacting any heirs or family,” Bertram shot back. “Certainly not before the man was even buried. But maybe that’s how things are done at Rosings Bank.”

There was a troubled rumbling about the room, and Lucas finally acted to regain control. “Now, that’s enough of that. Nobody’s accusing anybody around here. Let’s settle down and think of what’s to be done.” Even Bennet could see Fitzwilliam roll his eyes at that.

“I agree,” said Judge Phillips as he rose from his seat and walked to the lectern. Sheriff Lucas was forced to surrender the podium to the judge, who smiled and announced, “The events of the last few days have been a trial upon us all. It’s apparent to me that our families and livelihood are in some danger. It’s also apparent that our very able sheriff is woefully undermanned and unable to meet the crisis.

“Therefore, I am happy to announce that effective immediately, I am deputizing a group of brave men to supplement our local law enforcement efforts. These special deputies of the court will assist Sheriff Lucas in bringing these perpetrators to justice while helping to keep Rosings quiet and peaceful.”

To the astonishment of Bennet and many in the audience, Phillips said, “The head of this special detachment is here tonight. Mr. Denny, would you come right up?” There was a low rumbling as the gunfighter walked with a swagger to the front of the church.

“Thanks, Judge. I’m happy to accept this here assignment. Me an’ my boys will see that everything ’round here will stay nice an’ quiet.”

“Hold on, Alton,” cried Lucas. “I know nothing about this. How can you assign me deputies without my say-so?”

“They’re not your deputies, Sheriff,” Phillips said dryly. “They’re officers of the court. They report to me.”

Again the room grew quiet and Darcy stood up. “Your own private army, Alton?”

The judge turned to the rancher. “They won’t cause any trouble except to troublemakers, Darcy.”

Darcy nodded as if in thought before he spoke again. To Bennet’s confusion, he didn’t address Phillips or Denny; instead, he turned to the well-dressed man standing in the corner.

“I told you before, and I’ll tell you again. Keep your people off Pemberley, or you’ll regret it. If just one of your boys so much as spits on my property, I’m coming to see
you
.”

“Threats, Darcy?” sneered George Whitehead.

“Promises, Whitehead.” With that, the rancher walked out of the church, Fitzwilliam and Bertram trailing behind. Whitehead’s only response was to raise a single eyebrow.

Judge Phillips rapped the gavel, closing the meeting. Immediately, the murmurings among the men returned in earnest. Bennet noted that both Mayor Zimmerman and Sheriff Lucas were stunned at the apparent transfer of power. Most
of the others wore expressions ranging from confusion to fear. A few, Doc Bingley being one, were fuming.

“Well,” he whispered in his father-in-law’s ear, “a line’s been drawn in the sand. Every man’s got to choose which side he’ll stand on.”

Bennet didn’t doubt which side would be Charles’s choice. As for himself, he was torn. Bennet could not but respect the quiet authority and courage of Will Darcy. His dealings with the young rancher had been forthright and profitable.

Bennet was troubled by Whitehead’s association with Denny. He vowed that he would consider acts done during war in the heat of battle be left in the past. But whatever his sins—or Darcy’s or Whitehead’s—it was commonly believed that William Quantrill’s actions during the war were criminal. Didn’t Jesse and Frank James ride with him? The Younger brothers, too? “Bloody Bill” Anderson? All thieves and murderers. It wasn’t too far a leap to lump Kid Denny into that group.

Yet, Whitehead had advised him on improvements to the farm. While the promised increase in yields had not yet been realized, Bennet could see the potential. Besides, Rosings Bank held the mortgage on the property, and Whitehead was close to both Collins and Cate Burroughs.

With a sinking feeling, Bennet realized that he was squarely in the middle of a potential range war with no way out, except to flee. As he would never do that, he could only have his family keep a low profile and hope they didn’t get hit in the crossfire.

Darcy, Fitzwilliam, and Bertram walked out of the church into the warm night air, picking up two Pemberley riders who had stood guard outside the church.

“So, now do you believe me?” Fitz demanded.

“Do you believe me about Lucas being in a trap?” Darcy shot back before talking to his banker. “Is everything secure?”

Bertram nodded. “Everything’s as ready as it can be. We’ve got the strongest safe this side of the Brazos. You sure you don’t want me to sleep at the bank?”

“No. My people’s lives are more important than money. I’ll have two men keep an eye on the place at night. I don’t think anything’s going to happen, but I don’t want to take any chances. Get yourself home to Mrs. Bertram, all right?” The banker agreed and strode off towards his house as Darcy turned to the others.

“From now on, no one rides alone,” he demanded. “All details will be a minimum of two. Fitz, make sure your people are carrying a full load of ammo. Rosings is off limits until I say otherwise. Nobody goes to town for any reason unless personally directed by me. That goes double for Younge’s Saloon. I want to give Denny no cause to start something.”

“Boys are gonna be disappointed,” pointed out José. “They gonna miss their Saturday nights.”

“We’ll have a bar set up at the ranch. They’ll get their drinking in. As for the girls, well, we’ve all got to make sacrifices.” His voice hardened. “This is serious. Whitehead’s upping the ante, and I don’t want to be caught shorthanded. We start nothing, understand? Anything happens, get back to me immediately. Remember, Whitehead can still call in the army, so we better have ourselves on the right side. Let’s get home.”

As they mounted, Fitz commented, “Well, Lucas can’t be in the dark about Whitehead’s intentions now.”

Darcy looked at him. “I’m glad you have this all figured out, because I sure don’t.”

“Huh? What do you mean? You heard what Phillips said.”