Rondo (The Landon Saga Book 4) Read online

  Rondo

  Tell Cotten

  Also by Tell Cotten

  Confessions of a Gunfighter

  Entwined Paths

  Cooper

  Dedication

  To my parents, Leonard and Jan

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  Cover Art:

  Marcy Meinke/Converse Printing & Design

  www.ConversePrinting.com

  [email protected]

  Publisher’s Note:

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and events are the work of the author’s imagination.

  Any resemblance to real persons, places, or events is coincidental.

  Solstice Publishing - www.solsticepublishing.com

  Copyright 2014 Tell Cotten

  2nd edition

  Prologue

  Jeremiah Batch was an old black man. Two years back, he inherited a small ranch when his boss, Steve Hardin, was killed.

  The ranch wasn’t much, but it was all he had. So, when his cows came up missing, he didn’t take it lightly. He loaded his Colt, saddled his horse, and rode out to Ike Nash’s ranch headquarters.

  He pulled up in front of the house, and several ranch hands gathered around him. Ike Nash wasn’t there, but his son Tanner was.

  Tanner was tall and slim and arrogant.

  Jeremiah noticed that he held a Henry rifle, and the hammer was pulled back.

  “Tanner,” he said. “I need to look through your Pa’s herd.”

  “What for?” Tanner challenged.

  “Some of my cows are missing.”

  “So?”

  “Found some cow tracks heading this way,” Jeremiah said, and added, “Some horse tracks too.”

  “You accusing us of something?” Tanner narrowed his eyes.

  “Depends.”

  “On what?”

  “On what I find,” Jeremiah replied. “Could be, some of your Pa’s new hands got confused and drove my cattle over here by mistake.”

  “I think you’re the one confused,” Tanner sneered. “You’d best go home and drink some coffee.”

  Jeremiah looked at Tanner, and his hand rested on the butt of his Colt.

  “I’ll have a look at your cows,” he said, and he nudged his horse forward.

  “You will not!” Tanner warned.

  Jeremiah ignored him as he rode on.

  Tanner was furious, and he swung his rifle up.

  Jeremiah made an attempt to grab his Colt. In his haste he mishandled his six-shooter, and before he could recover Tanner shot him out of the saddle.

  As Jeremiah fell he grasped his Colt, and when he hit the ground he tried to raise up.

  Tanner fired again, and Jeremiah’s body was flipped over backwards. He kicked out and made some gurgling sounds as he died.

  The sounds of the shots were loud. Ike Nash came running out of the house, and Butch Nelson was behind him.

  “What’s going on?” Ike demanded. “Who is that?” He pointed.

  Tanner grinned and told him.

  “You idiot!” Ike growled. “I told you to take his cows, not kill him!”

  “You wanted his ranch,” Tanner replied arrogantly. “Well, now you’ve got it.”

  Without warning, Ike struck Tanner a hard blow with the back of his hand.

  Tanner hit the ground hard. His upper lip was busted, and he wiped the blood away with his sleeve as he glared up at his father.

  “You’ll never learn,” Ike muttered.

  Tanner didn’t reply, and it was silent as Ike thought on the situation.

  “You and a couple others take Jeremiah a long ways from here and bury him,” Ike finally said. “Bury him deep, you hear?”

  Tanner nodded sullenly as he got to his feet, and Ike glanced around at everyone.

  “Everybody’s to forget this happened,” he raised his voice. “I don’t want anybody talking about this. Understood?”

  Everyone nodded.

  Ike grunted, satisfied, and then he looked back at his son.

  Tanner was just standing there with a sour look, and Ike frowned and mumbled something under his breath as he turned and walked back to the house.

  Butch Nelson lingered. He chuckled softly at Tanner, and then he followed after Ike.

  Tanner narrowed his eyes as he watched Butch. As soon as they were gone, he took charge.

  “You,” he pointed to two ranch hands named Rory Wheeler and Brock Jackson. “Throw him over a horse, and let’s git.”

  Rory glanced uncertainly at Brock, but they still did as they were told.

  Chapter one

  Law in Empty-lake had once been Lieutenant Porter. But he was a bad man, so I killed him.

  Soon after that Governor Davis sent out a new batch of policemen, and this bunch was mostly honest. I also had a pardon from Judge Parker, so they left me alone.

  But mostly, the police force in Texas was corrupt, just like the Governor.

  They were supposed to fight crime and help with frontier defense, but in most towns that didn’t happen. Instead, Governor Davis used his police force to arrest anyone that opposed him.

  But that all came to an end when Richard Coke defeated Governor Davis in 1874. Davis lost in a landslide, 85,549 to 42,663, and so ended the police force in Texas.

  After that, law went back to the way it used to be. Towns elected sheriffs, and there was also talk that the Texas Rangers might get organized again.

  So far Empty-lake hadn’t elected a sheriff. So, when I saw the town council riding out to Mr. Tomlin’s ranch headquarters one evening, I had a good idea what they were after.

  My name is Rondo Landon.

  I used to be a well-known outlaw, and I was also known as the man who killed Ben Kinrich. I wasn’t proud of that, but it had to be done.

  I was smaller than most, and my hips were narrow and my shoulders were wide. I was also in good shape on account of all the hard work at Mr. Tomlin’s ranch.

  For the past two years I had been an honest ranch hand. And, the only time I’d had to use my well-known white, ivory handled Colt was when my cousin Yancy needed some help over in the New Mexico Territory.

  It had been a good two years.

  Rachel and I had grown close, and marriage was on my mind. Problem was, I had nothing to offer.

  I was down at the barn doing chores when they rode in, and I recognized all three.

  Morgan McCann was tall and wide shouldered. He owned the local saloon.

  Dave White owned the general store. He was an older man with white hair and stooped shoulders.

  Fred Stilwell was the youngest. He was a businessman; he owned the bank.

  They dismounted in front of the house. I heard them talking to Mr. Tomlin, and then they came down to the barn.

  Even though I’d been pardoned, most folks were still uncomfortable being around me. In fact, the only folks that treated me normal were the Tomlins, Ross, and Jeremiah Batch.

  They glanced uncertainly at each other, and then Fred Stilwell cleared his throat.

  “Good evening, Mr. Landon,” he said.

  “Call me Rondo,” I corrected.

  “Yes, Mr. Landon,” Fred said, and added, “I mean, Rondo.”

  I nodded and smiled.

  “We’ve come to make you an offer,” he announced. “We’d like you to be our sheriff.”

  “Why me?” I asked.

  “We need someone with your,
ah, qualifications.”

  “You mean someone that can use a gun,” I replied.

  “Yes, that is the qualification we were referring to,” Fred smiled timidly.

  I knew there was someone else who wanted the job, so I already had my answer.

  “I appreciate the offer, but there’s another more qualified,” I said.

  “Who?” Fred asked, surprised.

  “Ross Stewart,” I explained. “I might be better with a Colt, but I don’t know much when it comes to the law. Ross is better educated than I am. I think he’s the man you should talk to.”

  They glanced at each other and looked back at me.

  “We discussed Ross, and we like him,” Fred said. “But, we’d rather have you.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Do you know who Ike Nash is?”

  “I’ve heard of him.”

  “He showed up a few months ago with a lot of money, and he’s been buying ranches all over Texas,” Dave spoke up. “He has a lot of ranch hands, and they come to town every weekend. They tear up the saloon, take supplies from my store without paying for them, and scare honest folks.”

  “Last week one of them ran over a child in the street a-horseback, and he didn’t even stop!” Fred added.

  “Who was it?” I asked, concerned.

  “My son,” Morgan said, and there was anger in his voice.

  “Is he all right?”

  “He broke his foot and some ribs,” Morgan said. “Doc says he might have a limp for the rest of his life.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “It’s got to stop,” Fred spoke back up. “That’s why we want you.”

  “Sounds more like you want my reputation,” I said.

  “I guess you could say that,” Fred agreed.

  “How many hands?” I asked.

  “That come to town?” Fred asked. “Fifteen, sometimes twenty.”

  “Are they gun-hands, or cow-punchers?”

  “They all carry guns,” Fred replied.

  I smiled at that.

  “Any man can carry a gun, but that doesn’t make ’em a gun-hand,” I explained.

  “I’ll explain it this way,” Morgan spoke up. “Ike has enough hands to run several ranches, yet he only has a small herd.”

  “So he’s hiring gunmen,” I said, and all three nodded.

  I frowned at that and asked, “Would I get a deputy?”

  “Why sure,” Fred said. “You can even pick your own man.”

  “Tell him about the house, Fred,” Dave said.

  “House?” I asked.

  “There’s a little house on the edge of town that comes with the job,” Fred explained.

  “It’d be perfect for a man with, say, a wife,” Dave said.

  “Maybe even kids too, later on,” Fred added helpfully.

  I was embarrassed, and I felt my cheeks turning red.

  They must have noticed my discomfort, because suddenly they all became very interested in the ground.

  “Let me think on it,” I said. “Give you my answer tomorrow.”

  They agreed, and they went over to their horses and mounted up.

  I watched them leave, and then I went to find Ross.

  Chapter two

  Ross and I sat on the steps of the bunkhouse. It was almost dark, and we watched the sunset.

  Ross had a tall and lanky frame, with tanned skin and brown hair. When he spoke he always displayed a rich, Texan drawl.

  Ross was the curious sort, and he was always trying to solve some riddle. In fact, he even had suspicions about me when we first met, and he wasn’t satisfied until he finally figured out who I really was.

  His face was emotionless while I told him about the job offer. Afterwards, he pulled out a plug of tobacco, took a big bite, and spat as he thought on it.

  “I was sorta hoping for the sheriff’s job myself,” he admitted.

  “I know you was,” I said.

  Ross didn’t reply, and I sighed.

  “It seems we’ve always wanted the same things,” I said.

  “You’re talking about Rachel now,” Ross smiled faintly.

  “I am.”

  “Well, you got her; we both know that,” Ross said. “And, now it looks like you’ll be sheriff.”

  “I told them I would think about it.”

  “You don’t want the job?” Ross shot me a surprised look.

  “To be honest, I’d rather stay here and punch cows,” I said. “But, the sheriff’s job comes with a house.”

  “For you and Rachel?”

  “After we’re married, of course,” I nodded.

  “You ask her yet?”

  “How can I?” I replied. “Up ’til now I haven’t had anything to offer. After all, we can’t all live in the bunkhouse.”

  “No, I reckon not,” Ross smiled.

  “There’s something else,” I continued. “I get to pick my own deputy.”

  “Oh?”

  “I can’t think of nobody else I’d rather have than you.”

  “Deputy? Me?”

  “I know it’s not what you wanted,” I said.

  Ross didn’t reply. He turned and watched the sunset, and his face was thoughtful.

  “I never thought about being a deputy,” he said. “I was sorta aiming for something higher.”

  “I need you, Ross,” I said. “You know the law. I don’t.”

  Ross nodded slowly, and he spit out another stream of tobacco.

  “If we weren’t friends,” he declared, “I don’t think I’d like you much.”

  I tried to smile, and Ross chuckled gruffly.

  “I’m sorry, Ross,” I said earnestly. “I really am.”

  “Aw, it ain’t your fault,” he waved his hand at me.

  “So you’ll be my deputy?”

  “Somebody’s gotta take care of you,” Ross grumbled. “Might as well be me.”

  “Thanks, Ross,” I said, relieved.

  “Do you play chess?” He asked suddenly.

  “No, never have.”

  “You’re going to learn,” Ross declared. “And then, I’m going to beat you. It’s about time I beat you at something.”

  I chuckled as I stood.

  “Sure, Ross, you can teach me.”

  He grunted in response.

  “Well, reckon I’ll go tell Mr. Tomlin,” I said, and asked, “Want me to tell him you’re going to be my deputy?”

  “Might as well.”

  I nodded and left.

  Chapter three

  After chores, my daily routine was to go up to the main house and spend time with Rachel. Sometimes we would go for a walk; other times we would sit out on the front porch.

  Mr. Tomlin was in his usual position. He was sitting in his chair by the front door, and he gave me a curious look as I walked up.

  “You’re late,” he said. “Rachel’s inside, waiting for you.”

  “I’d like to talk to you first, sir,” I replied.

  “Sit down,” he offered, so I did.

  Mr. Tomlin had white hair, and his face was weathered and wrinkled. But his eyes were thoughtful and sharp, and he never missed a thing.

  It was silent as I gathered my thoughts, and then I cleared my throat.

  “The town council offered me the sheriff’s job,” I announced.

  “I figured they did,” Mr. Tomlin replied, and added, “I’d hate to see you leave, but the decision is yours to make.”

  “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than here, sir,” I said. “But, it’s complicated.”

  “How so?”

  “The job comes with a house.”

  “And why do you need a house?”

  I felt my face getting red.

  “Well,” I squirmed. “I would need a house, sir, if I was to get married.”

  Mr. Tomlin didn’t say anything, and his face was blank. I suddenly became very interested in the floor.

  “Are you asking for my daughter’s hand?” He fina
lly asked.

  “Well, not right away, but it’s been on my mind,” I replied. “That’s the only reason I’m considering taking the job. After all, a married couple has to have a place to live.”

  “It helps,” he agreed.

  “And that ain’t all,” I said. “Ross has agreed to become my deputy.”

  “Well! You’re just full of news,” Mr. Tomlin looked startled. “So, I’m losing my two best hands?”

  “I haven’t accepted the job yet.”

  “But you will,” Mr. Tomlin smiled. “Especially if you want to marry my daughter.”

  I was startled.

  “I have your permission?” I asked.

  “When the time comes,” Mr. Tomlin nodded, “you have my permission.”

  A grin spread across my face. Before I could reply, Rachel appeared at the door.

  “There you are,” she scolded playfully. “Where have you been?”

  “I’ve been talking to your father,” I explained.

  “About what?”

  I hesitated. I glanced at Mr. Tomlin for help, but he just smiled and stood.

  “I’m turning in,” he announced. “You two have a lot to talk about.”

  He hugged Rachel and went inside, and it was silent and awkward while Rachel waited for me to say something.

  Rachel had long, brown hair with sandy looking freckles that covered her face. She also had a knowing smile that always made me squirm, and she was giving me that look now.

  “So, what do we have to discuss?” She finally urged.

  Suddenly, I became very interested in the floor again.

  Chapter four

  It took a while, but I finally told Rachel about the job offer. Afterwards, she was silent as she thought on it.

  “Is this what you want?” She asked.

  “Not really,” I admitted. “I like punching cows better.”

  “Then why accept?”

  I told her about the house.

  “And why is a house so important?” She asked.

  My heart started thumping, and suddenly I didn’t know what to do with my hands. I crossed my arms, and then uncrossed them. Meanwhile, Rachel looked slightly amused as she watched me.