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"The most famous "John Wayne" look-a-like, SASS #9772, wrote this book.
"This book was written by a man who knows guns and the history of the true west and the westerns of Zane Grey and Louis L'Amour."
Judge Roy Bean, SASS #1
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A BRIEF SYNOPSIS
Year - 1858 - 1880
Matt Andersen was dead...
Shot down in a hold up that shocked the small community
of Virginia City, Montana. At least the townsfolk thought he was
dead. A case of mistaken identity may have saved Matt's life
but it would have to be a life lived in exile. His adventures
took him south where he served in the confederate army. After
the Civil War, he followed his commanding general to Texas
to work as a hired gun. Range wars and cattle drives kept
him busy, and home life on the ranch was good. Then, one summer
day, three cowboys rode in from Montana to bring him home.
Matt's life would change forever as he found himself having
to decide between the life and love he found in Texas and
his family's ranch in Montana. A sweeping saga of greed, lust,
gun fights, cattle drives, and family loyalty, "Across the
Brazos" is a story of one man's struggle to find himself and
his home.
"I wish I had written it." William Dale Jennings
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Readers Review:
First Two Chapters
ACROSS THE BRAZOS
The Adventure Begins
by
Ermal Walden Williamson
Prologue
Three Men - Two Graves
Wil Andersen's last thoughts, as the rustlers beat him mercilessly with their fists and gun butts, were to protect his group of hired teenaged cowboys even though they only watched as if in pleasure. As he walked tall for the last time into the darkness, defying the lead rustler's com-mands to "halt!” his remorse for his failure was stolen by the wind.
As Wil lay dying, his mind raced back to his two sons, Matt and Lukas, and how he had failed them.
He was back at his Double-O Ranch in the regional territory of Montana, 1858, south of the emigrant trail.
His younger son Lukas was thin in face and long in body; yet not the height of his father. At twenty, he was determined to get away from his father and his ranch and strike out on his own. His determination was imbedded deep in his soul. As a man, he would not be ruled by the strong hand of his father, nor would he die a broken rancher.
Matt was older by two years and had his father's good looks and height. He never crossed his father, no matter what. At the same time, he felt it was his duty and responsibility to see that Lukas learned the ways of an Andersen through and through.
The turning point in their lives came when Jeff Manning, a man of no morals, came to the Double-O Ranch looking for a job. He seemed to have no past but he could ride, and proved he had experience as a ranch hand.
Wil Andersen took him on out of trust. It was one of the last times he would break his rules.
Wil's sons became fond of Jeff Manning, his fancy stories about San Francisco, and his dreams of one day being wealthy enough to become a solid citizen of her streets.
At the time, however, he had no means of survival except for a sick horse and the clothes on his back.
Matt suited him up with clothes from his closet. Jeff being about the same size, they fit him well.
Days turned into weeks, and Jeff seemed to fit in with the Andersens. He paid particular attention to Lukas who appeared enamored with the Bay stories.
Jeff fed Lukas' mind with dreams of grandeur and thoughts of leaving Montana. This could mean the easy way. Lukas began to envision the glamorous life as a wealthy man, and Jeff convinced him that to fulfill their dream, all they had to do was to rob a freight office in town.
“Freightin’ is where the money is,” Jeff told Lukas. “Big money and no one protectin’ it. I know. I seen it when I rode through. A little bitty clerk is all there is in thet freight office.”
“What if we get caught?” Lukas asked.
“Hell, we get what we wants and ride out. We’d be gone before anyone knowed we were there.”
There was only one freight office in the area. When rumors of gold in the Colorado Ter-ritory reached bordering territories, miners began working the rivers and freight companies came in to supply miners and settlers. In most cases, the freight companies wound up making more money than the miners. They would pick up goods in Fort Benton on the Missouri and haul them down to the more populated regions of Bannack, Alder Gulch and the Ruby River. It would take a hitch of eight mules or oxen coupled with three wagons to make the trek along the Whoop-Up Trail. The shipping charges were great for the haul, and miners and settlers paid with broken backs as they built sluices to mine the gold.
Jeff had been watching the freight company as it was starting up and figured the money being paid to the teller was worth more than the gold. He became obsessed with the idea of stealing it.
Jeff picked a hot, dry day. He was counting on most men being out of town working the sluices. Lukas and Matt were playing a few hands of poker at the Golden Eagle Saloon when Lukas finished his hand and folded. He uttered something about bad luck and left the table. He went outside and stood on the porch of the saloon and looked over at the freight office.
Matt remained inside finishing up the last deal. He figured his brother was itchin' to go, so he would join him as soon as his hand was played.
The day was exceptionally hot for September in Montana, and this might have been what set Lukas off the most, because he was not thinking the way his father had taught him. He spot-ted Jeff Manning leaning against a post in front of the freight office.
Jeff looked down the street and saw little activity. On one side a few people were walk-ing in and out of stores and the saloon. On the other side was Townsend’s freight office with its stables, wagons, and a small warehouse and office. When Jeff saw Lukas come out of the sa-loon, he made his move and went into the freight office. Once inside, he watched until the last person left then pulled his bandanna up over his nose and drew his .44. He pointed the barrel in the clerk’s face and demanded the money.
When Lukas saw Jeff back out of the freight office, he untied his horse and Matt’s and walked them across the street to meet Jeff.
Matt was coming out of the saloon when he saw Lukas across the street with their horses.
“Hey, brother,” he yelled out, “where ya headed?”
Lukas ignored him as he nervously got Matt’s horse ready for Jeff to ride
Jeff dashed out of the freight office with a saddlebag full of money and his pistol raised in the air. He whipped the saddlebag onto Matt's horse and started to climb into the saddle when Matt, realizing that a robbery was going on, ran up to him and pulled him down.
Jeff's gun discharged, sending a bullet through the plate glass window of McDougle's store across the street.
Reverend George Riordan, a middle-aged preacher, was riding his horse and buggy to visit a parishioner when the shots scared his horse, causing it to rear up and fall back onto the buggy.
Jeff's pistol repeated and a bullet tore through the preacher's back. Riordan's body slumped in the seat of his buggy as his horse frantically attempted to free itself from the riggings.
The freight office clerk opened his door and shouted, “I’ve been robbed!” Seeing Jeff, he shut the door and fell to the floor.
Jeff fired at the clerk, hitting the store's door, smashing it. The clerk froze in his prone position, feeling the echo of the gunshots like great blasts of howitzers.
What Jeff had not contemplated was that the temporary sheriff, Samuel "Whitey" Wise-man, in town with his ranch hand, Freddie Fenton, was buying supplies at McDougle’s store.
The sheriff ran out of the store with his ranch hand when they heard the shots. It took the two men a few seconds to understand that a robbery was taking place. The sheriff's large voice boomed across the street. "Hold it, you men there! I’m the sheriff!" He drew his revolver fast from its holster and aimed it at a stunned Lukas.
Freddie stepped to Whitey’s side and aimed his shotgun at the confusion of horses and men.
Jeff climbed back onto Matt's horse and spurred him into a fast jolt uncontrollably to-wards Whitey and his deputy. Jeff began firing his .44 wildly at the two men but missed.
Freddie fired at short range, scattering shotgun pellets at the masked robber. Jeff’s body fell backwards off the horse, landing on the sidewalk at Whitey's feet.
Because he was Matt's size and wearing Matt’s clothes, Whitey quickly identified the dead robber as Matt Andersen.
Lukas was back in the stirrups and mounted when another shot rang out from across the street. The sheriff shot him in the shoulder, jerking him off his horse and onto the ground. His horse careened into the preacher's buggy.
Matt quickly ran to Lukas' side, hidden from the sheriff's view by the buggy and Reverend Riordan's horse trying to free itself. Realizing that shots were ringing dirt all around him, he yelled, "In the saddle, Lukas!”
Matt picked Lukas up and put him on his horse, slapping the horse's backside to get him to a gallop. Dodging bullets, Matt tried to climb into the saddle with him, but the horse was well on its way. Matt's body fell against the preacher in the buggy. The preacher's glazed eyes were open, as if staring at death. Matt slid off the buggy out of fear and rolled under the walkway.
Other men ran out at the end of town. Halfway down the street, Lukas was felled by a hail of bullets, bringing him and his horse hard to the ground. His head hit fast against the road-way, shattering his cheeks. He lay motionless. All eyes were on Lukas, which gave Matt a chance to further his escape. His mind was filled with fright, at the same time, remorse, for hav-ing seen his brother gunned down.
Matt rolled further under the walkway as people began to gather around Lukas. He looked out towards Lukas and saw his still body.
A man with a shotgun in his hand stooped over Lukas to examine him. He motioned with his hand that Lukas was dead.
Some of the men assisted in freeing the horse from its entanglement while others went to the preacher. Frontier folk had seen enough death to know that he had joined his Maker.
Reverend Riordan was one of the most well-liked people in town and great consternation filled the minds of the crowd. He had just come to town to build the town’s first church. Who could shoot a man of the cloth in the back?
Immediately, Matt's horse was captured and the money taken from the saddle. Several men with guns drawn stood over Lukas' still warm body and that of Jeff Manning. The shotgun blast had smashed the robber's face beyond recognition. Without a face, they all assumed it was Matt.
The people were certain that only two men were involved: Matt and Lukas Andersen, all except the town drunk, Zeb, who had seen a third man trying to escape.
Sheriff Whitey identified the dead outlaw as Matt without hesitation.
His ranch hand, Freddie, who shot him agreed. He only had time to aim and fire his shot-gun. In the chaos, the victim's face was a blur.
Jeff was an outsider; a man who had never been seen in town, but who had become friends with Lukas several weeks earlier when he sought employment at the Double-O Ranch. No one had known him.
Amidst the noise and confusion, Matt rolled out from under the sidewalk and, into the shadows, climbed the back steps of a vacant office, up onto a roof. Pulling himself across the roof of the building, he lay still among a stack of wood pilings to stay out of sight. His ears could discern only a few words at a time, but he knew Lukas and Jeff were dead. He also heard a discussion about a missing robber. Apparently, no one actually saw him between the two horses, or if they had, he was only another rancher trying to capture the robbers in all of the confusion. Several ranchers had shot at the men, as had the sheriff and Freddie.
Matt heard, "I tell you, I saw a third person."
"Hell, Zeb, what you saw was the Reverend Riordan. He musta tried to stop to help and was shot in the back." Whitey attempted to give the preacher a hero's send-off for his dying in the streets the way he did.
Several women were crying hysterically, which only added to the commotion.
The clerk explained that only one man came into his freight office.
Jim McDougle, the owner of the general store, said, "I almost got kilt. My window shat-tered and I ducked under the counter. My poor wife was in back, thank God. And thank God the sheriff came in to do his shopping today.”
Another witness pointed to Jeff's body. "I saw that one there riding towards the sheriff and get blasted right off his horse. Never saw anything like it before."
"Just two of them," a woman sobbed. "Both young men."
The sheriff said, "One man had the money. The other was riding away. I saw two men, Freddie. What say you?" he asked while examining the retrieved money.
The ashen-faced Freddie, feeling sick to his stomach, said, "Hell, I was too damned scared, to tell you the truth, sir. I thought we were gonna get killed. And . . . and I fired right into his face."
A man in a black suit wearing a tall hat moved quickly through the crowd to examine the bodies. One of the ranchers pointed them out to him. "You'll find the preacher in the buggy. One man out there in the middle of the street. Another on the steps of the saloon."
"Fittin,'" said another man.
The sheriff commanded, "Abel, you take a couple men and search the buildings south, while Freddie takes a couple of you up the street that-a-way. Just in case Zeb here is not drunk and there is a third man."
"Who were they, Sheriff?" came the cry from one of the women, brave enough to stand close to the scene.
"That one in the street is Lukas Andersen. Saw him in town with his brother Matt earlier. The one messing up the porch is Matt. If there's a third one, I don't know."
A rancher spoke up against the two dead men. "Two rowdy and no good young men. Wil thought he was bringin’ them up right."
The sheriff agreed, saying, "Wil never spared the rod bringin’ them up. Matt seemed to be levelheaded. Lukas, on the other hand, was wild most of the time."
A Swedish gambler by the name of Jan Olafsen sat alone at his table in the Golden Eagle Saloon, remaining quiet. He shuffled the cards in his hands over and over. He'd had a good glimpse of Matt and knew he was not involved in the shooting. But he said nothing, and no one paid a mind to ask him.
Anse Petersen was the saloon's bartender and Wil's best friend. Having known Wil for many years, he watched the wild antics of Matt and Lukas as they grew up and visited the saloon on occasion.
Anse had been tending bar when they were playing poker with Jan. If anyone had seen a third man, outside of Jan, it would have been him. His presence was large as he stood tall on the steps of the saloon watching the crowd in the street.
The sheriff's eyes caught him standing and asked, "Anse, you see a third man?”
“No sir, Sheriff. Matt and Lukas were playing poker with this gentleman." He pointed to Jan who had come outside and stood beside him. "That's all."
Jan’s mind recreated the scene that took place just before the robbery. He remembered asking for a drink, and Anse excusing himself as he went into the back room for more supplies. The two brothers had already been in the street when Anse returned.
The sheriff asked again, "You sure now, Anse?
"Sure as rain. They were in here playing poker. Guess they quit and walked across the street. I jest came back inside from gettin’ a drink for this gambler." He referred to Jan. "Only gone a minute. But there was no third man. I swear to it."
Noticing Jan's ostensible complacency toward the killings, the sheriff walked over to him and asked, "How about you. You see a third man?"
"I was playing cards with two men. Apparently they are now dead."
Again, the sheriff asked, "Did you see a third man?"
"No, sir."
Whitey was satisfied with his answer. He figured there was no reason for him to lie.
The sheriff ordered with his loud and husky voice, "Alright, folks, clear out. Unless you know something about a third man, I suggest you go home or back to your stores. If there is a third person involved, we'll find him. I promise you that."
Under his breath, he said, "Zeb, you shoulda been locked up. You're makin' my job too damn hard."
The gambler remained silent about the incident, not telling anyone what he saw. He had been in town just a few weeks and made some money. He figured he wasn't about to lose it by getting involved in something that belonged to the town and not to him. One of the men searching the buildings climbed up the back of the building where Matt was hid-ing. He raised himself level with the roof and searched the area with his eyes but failed to see Matt behind the wood pilings. Scared and shaking, the man left and went back down to search other buildings. It was his fear that kept him from looking deeper in the shadows where he would have found Matt.
Whitey handed over the money to the freight office clerk while Freddie and others draped the "brothers" across their horses. After a meal, and while waiting for the final report from the searching parties, the sheriff anticipated a trip to the Double-O Ranch. "Two horses, two men. Freddie, thet the way you see it?"
"Yes, sir."
"Anyone sure of a third person? Anyone?"
The searchers remained silent.
"Well, he ain't in town, and no one's left town, else we'd a seen him. Not that big of a town."
"I'll be takin’ them back to the Double-O." Looking over to Freddie, he said, "Take care of the mess. I'll be back."
Anse yelled over, "I'll ride with ya."
He climbed on his horse and sidled next to Whitey. They rode out of town towards the Double-O.
Matt waited until he felt reasonably safe before climbing down from the roof. It was a long walk home, and the sun was down by the time he reached the ranch. Matt hid among the trees when he saw Sheriff Whitey and Anse riding toward him. He waited there an hour until he saw the sheriff ride out alone headed back to town.
Once home, Matt slipped into the brush outside, waiting to find out what was happening before he made a move toward the house.
Anse spotted him from his window and quickly walked out of the bunkhouse to meet him.
He came up behind Matt, putting a hand on his shoulder, which felt like lead to Matt. Matt turned around with his pistol cocked, aimed at him. Quivering, he whispered, "Anse! Thank God." Anse uncocked his pistol and holstered it.
Anse put his hand over Matt's mouth and shushed him. Any little sound could be heard on a quiet night. When Anse was sure no one heard them, he motioned Matt to come to his room, which was part of the bunkhouse made into a guest room, especially for Anse. He had become part of the family and from time to time would visit the ranch, bringing Wil up to date with things happening in town.
Once inside, Matt stayed close to the floor and Anse turned the lantern's wick low, but not so low as to alert anyone. Anse spoke in a low voice as he set himself in his rocking chair for a view out the window. "Son, you're s'posed to be dead."
Matt wiped the perspiration from his forehead and swallowed hard. "Anse, what hap-pened? What the hell happened?"
Anse poured a glass of whiskey and put it on the floor for Matt. He poured one for him-self. "Drink up, boy. I'll have one, too."
In a moment, the two seemed to be alert to sounds around them. Wil Andersen came out of the house and stood on the porch looking out at the hillside. He was hatless. Two horses stood tied to the rail just outside the house, Matt and Lukas', relieved of their owners' bodies.
It was a hot night. Wil spoke haltingly to his wife Annie through the open window be-hind him while his gaze was on the hillside. "I'll bury them in the mornin’. With two crosses. And I'll put a fence around the plot."
Matt sat with eyes open wide and sweat beading across his brow. Anse whispered, "They think you and Lukas were killed trying to rob the freight office in town. And if you're here, then who the hell is in the living room?"
Matt answered slowly and softly, "My brother and that rotten son of a bitch, Jeff Man-ning. If they didn't kill him, I would have."
Anse was stunned. "His body looked like your'ns. His face was smashed somethin’ aw-ful. I think even your folks figured it was you."
Matt looked up at Anse and reasoned, "Two men, and our horses. 'Spec so. Lukas and I went into town for a game of cards and a drink. He left for a minute and I played out my hand with this gambler fella. By the time I finished my drink and got outside, thet bastard was comin’ out of the freight office. And Lukas was takin’ our horses to meet him." Matt paused and downed his drink. "He never told me."
"I suspected it was Jeff's body 'cause of his gunbelt." Anse said. "Weren't yours. Didn't want to say nothin' at the time. Didn't know fer sure."
Anse watched Wil as he stepped off the porch and began walking back toward the house. Getting out of his rocking chair, Anse said to Matt, "Stay here. Don't move," and left his room with the bottle of whiskey.
Anse stopped Wil just on the other side of his bunkhouse and said, "Been drinkin’. Want one, Wil?"
Wil took the bottle, drank it dry, and flung it as far as he could across the moonlit road-way.
The sound of the bottle breaking sent a chill up Matt's back. He wondered what his pa was thinking and how he could make it all better.
With his eyes narrow, Wil gritted his teeth and looked at his friend, Anse. "Matt is out there somewhere, Anse."
Anse's jaw dropped as he watched Wil gaze out into the night air. Wide-eyed and star-tled, Anse listened . . . hearing.
"You know that ain't Matt. Hell, I saw it in your eyes, as well as Annie's." He paused for a breather, took a chew of tobacco out of his pocket and broke off a piece with his teeth. "Sheriff Whitey knowed it, too. But he's keepin' quiet about it. Least while until we know what hap-pened. Kid's dead or what. I dunno."
"What makes ya know thet, Wil?"
"I know my son's body. One's Lukas. The other is that bastard, Jeff. That's his gunbelt, not Matt's. And Matt wore a leather bracelet on his wrist, the one I gave him on the day he be-came a man. And Matt never had a birthmark. Thet bastard has one on his arm." He paused for a moment, looked out into the darkness and continued, "He's out there."
"If you're right as rain, boss, whatcha aimin' ta do?"
"Damn right, I'm right as rain." He paused and fought back a tear. "Can't do nothin'. Yet. Matt's an Andersen. He'll be back."
"What if he don't?"
"He'll be back. If he's alive, he'll be back."
"Whatcha reckon happened out there, Wil?"
"Don't know, but I know this much. Soon as somebody finds that extra horse in town, they're gonna put two and two together and be right back here. Thet you can bet on."
"Jeff's?"
"He had one. Broken-down mare, but rideable."
"No, sir."
"What d'ya mean, `no, sir'?"
"Had to shoot her."
"When?"
"Yesterday. Ridin' out here from town, I caught Jeff walkin' in. His horse had stepped in a gopher hole and broke her leg. He couldn't kill her, so I did."
"Well, how'd they figure to get away on one horse?"
"Guess they figured to take Matt's horse and leave Matt in town." No sooner had the words got out of his mouth than he realized he was spilling the beans.
"What? Come around agin."
"I mean. Hell, Wil, I don't know what I meant."
"Dammit, Anse. You know something you're not tellin' me. What is it?"
Matt stepped out on the porch, but stayed in the shadows. "He meant that I wasn't in on it, Pa."
"Matt? Thet you?"
"Yes, sir. And I didn't do nothin' either, Pa."
Matt approached Wil slowly and cautiously, fearing his pa's full anger. Unfortunately, he was not cautious enough, for Wil connected a fist hard to Matt's jaw, sending him tumbling back-wards.
"How come you're here then?"
Matt picked himself up, and stepping backwards away from his pa, said, "Where else could I go?"
Anse stepped in, saying, "Wil, go easy on the boy."
Wil stood straight and looked at Matt. "Come here. Let me get a good look at cha."
"Jeff planned it, Pa. He caused Lukas to side in with him. Don't know why or how. Alls I know is, it was them two and I couldn't stop 'em." He took in a deep breath as he whimpered. "Lukas is dead, Pa."
"Then the other body is Jeff's, “Wil said emphatically. "Thet son of a bitch."
"Yes, sir."
Anse asked, "What now, Wil?"
"Gotta figure this damn thing out. Annie knows it's not Matt, too. I'm sure of it. Thank God she didn't say anything to Whitey, 'cause he said there was mention of a third man. I'm thinkin' he too 'spects Matt is still alive."
Grabbing Matt's arm tight, Wil said, "If word gets back that you're alive, he'll have to ar-rest you. And seein' how our preacher was killed in the robbery, the townsfolk ain't gonna be easy convincin' otherwise."
"Ma's gotta know thet I'm okay, Pa. She's already suffered enough."
"Hold on, Matt. Maybe your pa's right."
"Damn! This is one time I'd give my ranch and everything I own, just to be wrong," Wil said. "Lukas was one hell of a son. Stubborn, but had a lot of good in him. And you say you didn't know nothin’ goin' on? Hell. You musta knowed Jeff was in town and up to no good."
Once again Matt felt the pain of Wil's fist as it connected across his face, causing blood to spatter from his nose. His body hit the ground with full force, knocking the wind out of him. Lying on the ground, Matt turned over and said, "Pa, it ain't fair. I ain't done nothin' to cause you to hit me. I tried to protect my brother."
"You didn’t try hard enough, damn it,” Wil snapped back with his fist still clinched. “If you had, Lukas would still be alive.”
Anse broke in, saying, "Hold on, Wil. It wasn't Matt's fault." He knelt down and wiped the blood from Matt's cut face.
Matt's voice showed pain, but he refused to whimper. "We were playin' poker. Both me and Lukas. Lukas lost and left the game. I stayed for one more hand, Pa. One hand. When I stepped out into the street, Lukas had both our horses and was headed across the street. When I went over to him, Jeff was comin' out of the freight office. Then is when I knew what was hap-penin'." Matt rose and finished wiping the blood from his nose and mouth. "I knocked Jeff away from my horse. But when I tried to get Lukas out of there, he was shot. And, Pa, there were shots ringin' out all over the place. And horses rearin', and people shoutin', and next thing I knew, I rolled under the sidewalk to escape."
"That's when someone thought they saw you?" Anse asked.
"They musta seen me, but the preacher was shot, and in all the confusion, I escaped."
"That's just the way Whitey told it, too." Wil said. "He kept it quiet about the third man. I'm a thinkin' he knowed it was you."
Matt rose and staggered over to Wil. "We got no right keepin' my bein' alive from Ma. None! Lukas was my responsibility, but I swear to God, I didn't know he was gonna rob any-one." His eyes swollen and red with tears, he fell at Wil's feet. "I gotta see Ma. It ain't fair, Pa."
Holding him, Wil said, "Wrong, son. Sometimes right don't seem right at all. Kinda feel this is one of those times."
The door to the house opened wide, letting the light spill out into the roadway. Annie's figure could be seen as she came out on the porch. She had been crying and called out, "Wil?”
Wil's strong arms wrapped around Matt as he attempted to run to his ma. The darkness hid their bodies from Annie's view. He said, "I'm out here thinkin'."
"Want me to join ya?"
"No, Annie. I'll be in d'rectly."
Turning back to Matt, Wil whispered, "What good would it do now, son?"
Annie turned and went back into the house, letting the light disappear back inside.
Wil kept ahold of Matt's arms.
Gritting his teeth, Matt said softly, "I gotta see her, Pa. I gotta."
"You let your ma see ya son, and she'll try to protect ya. She'll never let you go. And you can't stay here without no one knowin'. When Whitey comes by, he'll arrest ya. And knowin’ the men like I do, they’ll form a vigilante and hang ya. For sure, they’ll hang ya."
Wil looked at his son, who was holding his head with his hands and sobbing. He realized he was taking a reason for living away from him. It went directly against his own teaching. Loosening his grip on Matt, he said, "Damn it, son. Do what you have to."
Matt stood erect, and looked over to the house. He could make out Annie's shadow through the window as she moved about. He moved closer to the house.
Wil and Anse stood motionless.
Matt continued walking toward the house until he came to the steps and stopped.
The wind seemed to stand still. No sound in the fields could be heard. Annie's silhouet-ted figure in the window sat down in her chair and began to rock.
Matt planted his boot on the first step to the porch. Quietly, he turned around and looked at his pa and Anse. He sensed his pa was right. He reasoned that if he walked in, his ma would do everything she could to protect him. She wouldn't be able to let him go.
If he stayed, he would ultimately become a prisoner on his own ranch. Eventually, he'd be caught. By leaving and starting a new life elsewhere under another name, he could possibly redeem his real name and that of his family, someday.
As he turned away from the house and started walking back toward his pa and Anse, the door opened again, and Annie stepped out into the darkness.
"Matt? Is thet you, son?"
Matt turned quickly, meeting her open arms as she moved towards him. The embrace of his ma melted his resentment of his pa's fists.
Wil watched in silence as the wind whistled through the pines and carried its tune to the dark clouds above covering a new moon.
She said, "I knowed it was you out here."
Wil asked, "And the boy inside with Lukas?"
"I knowed it was thet Jeff boy."
Silence fell upon her lips for a few moments as she gathered her thoughts. "You hurt any, son?"
"No, Ma."
"Your brother?"
Breaking from the embrace, he said, "I tried to stop him, Ma. I couldn't."
Anse said, "He's tellin' the truth, ma'am. What I saw of it, there was too much shootin'. And the good Lord jest saved his life."
She grabbed a hold of Matt's hand and reeled him back to her side. Looking into Matt's eyes, she asked Wil without moving, "What's to be done, now, Wil?"
"If he stays here, he's a dead man."
Annie drew in a deep breath.
"As it is right now,” Wil continued, “Whitey has convinced the townsfolk thet it's all over. If they learn Matt's alive and was in town during the holdup, they'll lynch him.”
She looked at Anse for a response.
"Yes, ma'am. They were fierce mad when we left. The preacher was shot in the back. Thet's all the reason for them to hang anybody."
"They can't!" Annie retorted loudly. "They jest can't!"
Wil attempted to console Annie by holding her hand. "I told Matt he'd have to leave. For awhile. 'Til everything settles down. Then, maybe when all of this is forgotten and done away with, he can come home."
"When? My son's not a criminal. He has nowhere to go, Wil."
Matt walked away from them and gazed up into the dark sky. Dropping his head, he said, "If I go, I could never come back."
Annie looked at Wil and waited for a reply.
Wil kept silent.
Matt turned, walked back, and said, "I love ya, Ma."
She knew he had made his decision to leave.
Matt walked into the house for a last look at his brother's body draped on the floor. The others followed him in. He knelt down and touched his brother's uncovered hand and asked, "Can I help bury my brother?"
Anse answered him. "Best not, Matt. Sooner you leave, no one will know."
Wil concurred, "He's right, son."
His mother sobbed.
Anse said, "Wish I hadn't shot thet horse, now."
Wil asked, "Where's the carcass?"
"I pulled it off the side and partially buried it with some weeds. Jeff said he'd finish it. Guess he never did."
"Damn. Can't take a chance. At light, you and Matt backtrack, and make sure it's buried deep."
"Yes, sir."
"And you, son. When thet's done, you're gonna head out south."
Matt stood up and felt Annie's warm embrace again.
Annie looked over her son's shoulder towards Wil, and asked, "Why?"
Wil put one hand on Matt's shoulder and wrapped his other arm around Annie. “’Cause, I love ya, Matt. Thet mean anything to you? One son's dead. I don't want both my sons killed."
Annie watched in loving-kindness as tears fell from her cheeks.
Matt's tired body finally felt the pangs of weariness from running scared, the drink, and the beating from Wil's fists. Still sobbing, he collapsed in the arms of his pa as Anse kept him from falling.
Anse helped Wil carry Matt to the back of the house and lay him down on the bed where the night caressed him into a deep sleep.
Wil lingered over him awhile to assure his safety before he left to return to Annie's arms. But, sleep didn’t come to either of them.
Anse sat on the porch and watched out into the night.
Daylight was slow to come to the ranch that day, but before she had peeked its head over the nearest rise, Wil was on the hill digging the graves.
Matt and Anse rode down the road that led to town as the sun had just broken the sheet of night.
Annie's fine figure of a woman clad in a plain housedress climbed the hill to join Wil. Looking out, she watched the shadowy figures of Matt and Anse ride away.
"He'll be back. Soon, Annie."
"I know." Annie looked at Wil in a special way to show that they were both sharing a moment of loneliness for the first time in their lives together. They were burying one son and watching another ride away.
"The cowhands shoulda gotten up by now. They can help you."
"I'd rather do it myself, Annie."
Annie stood there looking at Matt and Anse as they disappeared farther down the road. Wil stopped digging, grabbed her hand, and held it tight as they watched the two men ride away.
A hard rancher, Wil bred and raised cattle, as well as horses, that earned him a decent liv-ing. His desire was for his sons to follow suit. He now felt that he had some how failed his sons.
Annie never heard or saw Wil complain. Likewise, she was never one to complain, ei-ther.
The first of the wranglers crawled out of the bunkhouse. Seeing Wil and Annie on the hillside, they joined them. They had heard about the shooting the evening before while putting the bodies in the front room. They were not aware of Matt's return or of his having left. They believed that the two bodies were those of Matt and Lukas.
Now, they carried the draped bodies in a buggy to the northern slope of the hill. The men helped with the digging, in spite of Wil's resistance. Once the holes were dug deep enough, the men lowered the bodies gently into each of them, one at a time, then returned to the bunkhouse to leave Wil and Annie alone..
Wil's mind wandered from the hillside as he began thinking about what had really hap-pened with Matt. He thought, it's Sheriff Whitey's word against the town. They were shooting at Matt, too. If we tell the townsfolk it was Matt, they'd lynch him. This way, two graves. Two crosses. Matt and Lukas. No one will know the better. He paused on the hillside and looked down the road one last time. "He tried to stop Lukas. That's good enough for me."
With the last clump of dirt on the graves, he whispered to himself. "I wish he could have stayed." Then with an unconscious utterance, he cried loudly, "Hell!" and threw the shovel as far as he could.
Annie grasped Wil's hand and squeezed hard. She shared that strange look in his eyes, and cried inside with him, as a wife and a mother would at this moment in their grieving. Then she asked, "Ready, Wil?"
Wil came back in his mind to this part of the ceremony. "Yeah." Taking off his hat, and bowing his head, he said slowly, "Lord, bless our children. And forgive them their deeds. Both are in your hands. Amen."
Annie knew what he meant by saying, "Both are in your hands." One son was at rest in the grave, and the other was riding away. Both sons were in God's hands.
Wil looked over at the house where Jebediah the cook was beginning to build his fire. Jebediah was an elderly man who was too old to sit a saddle, too skinny to be accused of eating too much of his own cooking, and too ugly to run away to a better job.
The couple walked down the hill to join him for a cup of coffee.
"Thought you'd be needin' sumthin, boss,” Jebediah said. "Use a cup of coffee, ma'am?"
"Thanks, Jebediah," replied Annie, as she accepted the cup.
Wil looked back at the hill and at Annie by his side, and said lowly, "They'll always be with us, Annie. Sharing a cup of coffee in the morning. We'll still see them ridin' the range. They'll always be with us."
Annie leaned against Wil's body, wiping her face with her apron, and looked into the sunlight. She said as only a mother could say, “I know that, Wil." She cried and wiped her tears with her handkerchief.
Wil caressed her gently for encouragement, "You can bet on it." Then he looked again at the hill where the two crosses stood, and thought, “If there was only another way."
The young cowboys watched in agony as Wil's bloody hands gripped the sod one last time. The sound of the rustlers’ horses riding away gave them a moment of relief and they ran to Wil’s side. He heard his name called out by one of his young cowboys, “Mr. Andersen! Don’t die on us.”
Wil released the sod and felt his life leave his body.
Ermal is presently performing a two-man show in Branson, Missouri with Paula Cravens (America's Yodeling Sweetheart) in
"For God and Country". For information, you may call 417-598-0088. He is the proud owner of Gaines Landing Bed & Breakfast in Branson, Missouri Gaines Landing Bed & Breakfast where anyone who spends the night can have breakfast with "the Duke" with no extra charge.
Ermal would love to share a moment with you over a cup of freshly-brewed morning coffee.
To book a reservation for a get-away moment with your loved one at Gaines Landing Bed & Breakfast in Branson, Missouri, please click
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