The Lawless Two (Preview)

Chapter One

Oklahoma, 1870

“That’s your problem, Sheriff Barnes. You think too much.” Mayor Harbor laughed as he placed his hand on Jonah’s shoulder. “It’s simple. Ride out and tell them to get movin’. No need for trouble.” 

Jonah didn’t respond as the mayor turned him to face the other two men who’d just arrived. 

“This here’s Boris, and that’s Frank. They’re only going along with you to keep things peaceful.” 

“I’m afraid they won’t take it quite so peacefully, having five white men riding up to their camp and telling them to leave,” Jonah replied, choosing his words carefully. 

“If they won’t go on their own, show them you mean business,” the mayor said, nodding to the Colt Peacemaker at Jonah’s side. “The decision’s been made. It’s up to them whether they go easy or hard.” 

Jonah bit his tongue. There was a lot he could say to the mayor, but over the past two years, Mayor Harbor had proven time and time again that he did things his own way. He wasn’t interested in hearing what Jonah or anyone else had to say. He ran his town the way he wanted, and that was the end of the discussion. 

“Come on, boys,” Jonah said to his deputies. “We’ve got a job to do.” 

His two men exchanged a look, and Jonah knew what they were thinking. They didn’t want those two thugs the mayor had hired to go with them, either. But Mayor Harbor didn’t like Indians. He’d made that clear since the day those Comanches had settled in. 

Jonah didn’t see a problem with the Indians himself. They’d made their camp out in the hills beyond the town, and besides riding into Flagstaff occasionally to trade, they’d kept to themselves. There hadn’t been any reports of violence, so Jonah saw no reason to make them leave. 

“You sure about this?” Deputy Snape asked. He’d pulled alongside Jonah, and he gave Jonah a concerned look. “They’re running out of places to go.” 

Jonah nodded, though his heart wasn’t in it. 

“Mayor’s worried about the food supply. Says what with winter coming, there’s not enough to go around. They’ll be alright. We’ll point them farther west.” 

Though Deputy Snape nodded in response, Jonah saw the expression on the other man’s face. He didn’t agree with the decision any more than Jonah did. Deputy Williams rode along just behind, but his lips were pursed in the same grim line reflected on Snape’s face. 

Jonah squared his shoulders. It wasn’t easy being sheriff, and there were plenty of times when he’d been asked to do something he didn’t want to do. This was one of those times. He’d grit his teeth and get it over with, then push it out of his head. With any luck, Mayor Harbor would be out of office soon and Jonah wouldn’t have to go against his own conscience anymore. 

At least, he hoped. 

The group crested the hill, and the Comanche camp appeared before them. Just as always, the place was peaceful and quiet. It was midafternoon, and it appeared as though the women were either tending to the children or doing other chores. 

“I don’t like this,” Boris said. 

Jonah looked over his shoulder, glaring at the thug. “Don’t like what?” 

“Where’s the men?” Boris shot back, giving Jonah a challenging look. “Savages, all of them. Odds are they’re watching us right now.” 

“Don’t get yourself spooked over nothing,” Jonah retorted. “They’re likely out hunting or fishing. The place looks harmless.” 

“Harmless,” Boris sneered, and Frank laughed. 

“Hear that, Boris?” Frank taunted. “They’re harmless. As harmless as a den of rattlesnakes just waiting for some poor sap to wander in.” 

Jonah gave both men another warning look. He wished he had the power to send them back to town, but the mayor would lose his temper if Jonah did. Mayor Harbor made plenty of questionable decisions, and he always responded with the same fierce attitude when anyone tried to defy him. 

It wasn’t worth the consequence. 

“Stay close,” Jonah directed the rest of the men. “You’re not to interact with any of them. I’ll speak with the chief, we’ll give them a day or two to pack up and go, and that’s the end of it.” 

Frank and Boris gave each other a look Jonah didn’t like, but he let it go. It was useless to pick a fight with either of them, and it would only drag out how much time he had to spend in their company. 

Once they were finished with the job, those two would leave, and it would be just Jonah and his two deputies once again. Just as it should be. 

The group rode down the hill and dismounted, walking their horses into the camp. The Indian women looked fearful, and those with children gathered the young ones nearby. Some retreated into their tents while others stopped what they were doing and just watched. 

Jonah nodded every now and then, though he primarily kept his focus ahead. He didn’t like being in the middle of the camp, even if he didn’t have anything against the Indians. He could speak a little Comanche, which was the entire reason he had been the one to come to the camp in the first place. 

He asked a woman where he could find the chief, and she pointed toward the middle of the camp. He nodded, and the group continued toward the center. 

Finally, Jonah held up his hand. He looked over his shoulder at the four behind him and held his finger to his lips. 

“I don’t want to hear a word out of any of you,” he said. “Let me speak with the chief, and we’ll go.” 

His deputies nodded, and he turned back toward the door of the teepee where the chief was emerging. Jonah drew himself to his full height and squared his shoulders in a show of respect to the chief as the man came outside. 

Jonah held up his hand in greeting, but before he could utter a word, an explosion rang out behind him. To his horror, the chief’s hand flew to his chest, and Jonah saw blood immediately gushing from the bullet wound. 

The chief’s expression was confused for only a second before his eyes went blank. He fell backward, landing halfway inside the teepee, dead before he hit the ground. 

The woman who’d been inside the tent with the chief shrieked in terror, and Jonah whipped around to face his men. Boris stood with his gun in hand and a smirk on his face. 

“What in blazes do you think you’re doing?” Jonah screamed. 

“Just following orders, Sheriff,” Boris said, turning the weapon on another of the Indians. 

Jonah watched in horror as the man pulled the trigger again, murdering the woman as she tried to flee. At the same time, Frank pulled out two guns, firing them in rapid succession and killing anyone who was unfortunate enough to be in his way. 

“Stop!” Jonah screamed, rushing toward them. “I give the orders around here, and this isn’t going to turn into a massacre!” 

Even as he spoke, it was too late. The two thugs had clearly been authorized by the mayor to kill everyone in the camp, and they meant to do just that. 

“Turn on them, boys!” Jonah ordered. He hated to give the directive, but he wasn’t going to stand by and let those men kill these helpless women and children. That wasn’t justice. That was murder. 

His deputies moved to do as they were told, but they hesitated in their shock. The split second of inaction proved fatal for them both, as Frank turned his weapons and shot them dead. 

The group had dispersed some as the frantic Natives tried to take cover, but both his men were still in the open and vulnerable to the gunfire. 

Jonah couldn’t hold back any longer. He yanked his own gun from its holster and aimed it at Boris, shooting the man in the shoulder. Boris screamed in rage, returning fire. Jonah had managed to put a teepee between himself and the two thugs, but the thin fabric of the structure didn’t provide any security from the onslaught of bullets. 

He looked over his shoulder. He had to get to his horse before either Boris or Frank found him. 

He saw his pinto and rushed forward, hearing another gunshot and feeling a searing pain in his shoulder before the explosion faded from his ears. He swore as he whipped his gun around and pulled the trigger. 

This time, his bullet found its mark. Boris hit the ground with a dull thud, shot dead in his tracks. The screams were fading in the camp. Jonah had to hurry. Frank was moving fast, killing anyone he could. 

Jonah rushed in the direction of the chaos, seeing the man disappear around the side of a teepee. Another gunshot rang out, ending another scream in silence, but Jonah surged forward. 

Instead of running around the back of the tent, he moved around the front. Frank would likely expect Jonah to try to sneak up on him from behind, and in a fraction of a second, Jonah realized he had been right. 

Frank was looking over his shoulder, his gun at the ready. Jonah didn’t hesitate. He clicked his gun, and Frank’s head whipped around in surprise. 

Jonah didn’t say a word. As soon as Frank’s face turned toward him, he pulled the trigger, shooting the other man right between the eyes. 

A deafening silence followed as Jonah looked around the camp. Death and destruction lay before him as bodies were scattered everywhere. Those who had survived the terror had fled, leaving only a graveyard in their wake. 

Jonah fell to his knees as a scream rose to his throat. He’d never meant for that to happen. He hadn’t wanted to even tell them to leave. 

Those people had been innocent. They’d done nothing to deserve the death that came upon them. 

And it was all his fault.

Chapter Two

Texas, 1881

“What kind of bounty hunter are you, anyway?” Jim Brady demanded. “I’ve seen our posters. We’re wanted dead or alive!” 

“You make it sound like you’d rather be dead,” Nate King replied. “That could be arranged if you don’t shut up.” 

“Most bounty hunters just go with dead without question,” Isaac Brady, Jim’s younger brother, chimed in. “It would be easier that way.” 

“I don’t take the easy way out,” Nate said. “Now sit still.” 

He was fixing the bandage on Jim’s leg, wanting to keep the man from bleeding out before he could get them to town. It was true, the Brady brothers were wanted dead or alive, but they were worth more alive than dead. That was becoming more common, as more people wanted to see justice served against the criminals. 

“Wait a second,” Jim gasped. “I know you.” 

“You don’t know me,” Nate replied. 

It wasn’t impossible that the man was telling the truth. Nate’s skin had become leathery and tan after spending so much time under the sun over the last ten years, but he was still tall and thin with the same shock of strawberry hair he’d always had. 

Though photographs were black-and-white, anyone who had seen his image would know his eyes were blue, and as he’d never been able to grow a beard well, he remained perpetually clean-shaven. He wasn’t thirty years old anymore, but at forty-one, he was still recognizable. 

“No, I do,” Jim said. “You were a sheriff, weren’t you?” 

“My past is none of your business,” Nate said, pulling the bandage tighter than necessary to prove a point. Jim gasped at the pain, but he refused to give up. 

“I know him,” he said to his brother. “He’s that sheriff what killed all those savages back in Oklahoma.” 

“Shut up,” Nate snapped. 

“See? It’s true,” Jim insisted. 

“I didn’t kill them,” Nate retorted, his tone as sharp as a dagger. “You don’t know a thing, and if you don’t shut up, we’ll go back to taking you in dead.” 

Jim had a smug look on his face as he gave his brother a knowing nod, but he shut up all the same. Nate glared at them both, silently warning them to keep quiet about what they thought they knew about his past. 

He hated every encounter he had with an outlaw who happened to know the truth about him. It felt like they were trying to threaten him, or like they were judging him for his own misdeeds. 

I didn’t kill anyone innocent that day. I tried to stop those thugs from doing what they did.

He adjusted the ropes that held the two brothers on the back of the horse before going back to his own. He pushed thoughts of that terrible day eleven years before out of his mind, focusing on the present. 

“You should let us go,” Isaac started. 

“Shut up,” Nate said. 

“What right do you have to judge us?” Isaac pressed. 

“I’m not judging anyone,” Nate replied. “I’m a bounty hunter, you’re an outlaw. This isn’t anything personal. You broke the law, and I’m taking you in to face justice.” 

“Face justice, he says,” Isaac said to his brother. “Where’s the justice for those savages you murdered?” 

“I told you to shut up about that!” Nate snapped over his shoulder. “The next one who asks me about it gets a bullet to the face.” 

He hoped that would be the end of the discussion, but he wasn’t surprised when he heard them discussing the situation quietly between themselves. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, refusing to acknowledge that he could even hear them. 

“Rumor has it that he quit being sheriff after that happened,” Isaac said to his brother. “Isn’t that right?” 

“That’s right,” Jim confirmed, his tone hushed. “They say if he stayed sheriff, he would have hanged for the offense. Makes sense, though, since those savages weren’t doing nothing when he went in there with those other men and killed them.” 

“I heard he even shot the four men who were with him to make sure there weren’t any witnesses,” Isaac said to his brother. “Smart man, if you ask me.” 

“Must be a lot smarter than you both,” Nate said. “You could have done anything with your lives, yet you became cattle rustlers. You know cattle thieves hang, but you chose that life anyway.” 

“Big words coming from a man who ought to hang himself,” Isaac shot back. “I’m no Indian lover, but I’m not going into camp to murder a bunch of them, neither.” 

Nate thought about the warning he’d given, but he chose to ignore the comment. Outlaws were all the same. They broke the law, then spent their time comparing whose crime was worse. He’d made mistakes in his life, perhaps the biggest of those being the day in question. 

But he wasn’t a murderer. He knew what had happened that day, and he wasn’t going to plead his case with two outlaws who were wanted for stealing cattle. The truth was that he’d resigned from being a sheriff immediately following the incident, and then he’d disappeared. 

He’d given up on his dream of being a lawman, at least to that extent. Still, he needed to make money, and he was good with a gun. The most logical thing to do was become a bounty hunter, so that was exactly what he’d done. 

He’d changed his name to Nathan King, hoping to completely erase the past, if possible. Still, there were those who would forever recognize his face after his photograph had been published in the paper. 

“You’re a sick man,” Isaac announced, clearly trying to get under Nate’s skin. “Walking around and acting like you care about justice when you’re just as guilty as the rest of us.” 

“I don’t act like nothing,” Nate replied. “I’m getting paid for this. That’s why I do it.” 

“And you don’t think you’re a hypocrite?” Jim asked. 

“You can plead your case with the judge,” Nate replied. “I’m not here to judge nor sentence you. I’m here to take you to face your sins.” 

“As if you have none yourself,” Jim spat. 

Nate chose to ignore them. He’d tried to plead his own case with such men before, though he couldn’t explain why. Even if he did get their condolences, it didn’t change the fact that he would forever be haunted by what happened that day. 

Perhaps it was the need to convince them that he didn’t think himself better than anyone. And that was the truth. He felt he was rotten to the core, with little good about him. He was a man who needed to make a living, and he used his skills to do just that. 

That was where it ended in his mind. Justice could carry itself out for the criminals he arrested. He didn’t concern himself with such things. 

“Last stop, boys,” Nate said over his shoulder. 

Fort Worth appeared in the distance. The outline of the town seemed to dance in the desert heat, making it appear as though it wasn’t even there. Apparitions were common under the ruthless sun, but Nate had grown accustomed to such things. 

He could ride for hours and never get lost, even on the hottest days. He knew where and how to find water, and just when he needed to sit in the shade. 

The sight of the town was welcome, though Nate greatly preferred solitude to the company of people. Outlaws weren’t the only ones who recognized him from the past, and he hated the remarks that were made or the occasional questions that were asked. 

Two brothers argued between themselves about the arrival at the fort, but he ignored them. It was common for criminals to make one last effort to plead for their freedom before he dropped them off, but it never worked with Nate. There wasn’t a thing they could offer him that would get him to let them go, not that they would deliver on their promise anyway. 

“You’re taking us to the army?” Isaac asked. “That’s Fort Worth up ahead.” 

“It’s more of a town now than a military fort,” Nate explained, though he didn’t have to give them any answer at all. “I’m told it’s going to strictly be a town before you know it, not that it matters where you’re going.” 

Isaac swore at him in response, and it didn’t take long before Jim joined his brother in the cursing. Once again, Nate ignored them both. Silence was his most powerful weapon, despite still having his same Colt Peacemaker at his side 

The fort-turned-town rose taller and taller as they drew near, and the blurry lines around it became solid. Men on foot and horseback also appeared in the heat of the day, with their blurry figures also becoming sharper the closer the three men drew. 

Some stopped to stare at Nate as he passed, but he kept his eyes fixed dead ahead. He was unpopular as a bounty hunter, but he ignored the judgment that was cast his way. Though most folks said they didn’t want outlaws running free, they still managed to look down on men like Nate King. 

He never fully understood why, but he didn’t care enough to ask anyone, either. People had their opinions. There was nothing he could do about it. 

“Pardon me,” Nate said once they were past the large gates that had once been part of a wall surrounding the fort, “can you please tell me where to find the new sheriff’s office? I heard the old one burned down since I was last here.” 

The pair of young women he’d asked stared up at him with wide eyes. Their gazes flitted quickly to the men who were tied on the horse behind him, then he saw the judgment flicker in their features. 

“Just go up that way,” one of them snootily remarked with a wave of her hand. 

“Thank you kindly,” he said, touching the brim of his hat. Neither the speaker nor her friend so much as smiled in response, both ducking their heads and quickly walking away. 

“They don’t like you any more than us,” Isaac said, but Nate didn’t respond. There were a number of comments he could make, but he wasn’t about to get drawn into an argument with either of those men in front of the people in town. Out in the woods was one thing, in front of other people was quite another. 

“Right this way,” he told them with a smile that was a little too sweet. The expression brought another onslaught of cussing from the two prisoners, but Nate only chuckled. 

It didn’t take long for the sheriff’s office to appear ahead of them, and as always, he felt a pang run through him at the sight. There was something similar about every sheriff’s office, and each one reminded him of the life he’d left behind. Rather, the life he’d lost. 

“Final stop,” Nate said as he dismounted. He reached for his gun and pulled the pair off the back of their mount. It took a few minutes of coordinating the two bound men to get them pointed in the right direction, but soon enough, Nate marched them up the two steps into the small office. 

It was time to turn them in and collect his bounty. 

Then he’d be on the trail again.