A Town Called Sunrise

Threats and Promises

"You got company, Mr. Landsman." The elderly hand directed his attention to the two riders coming up the road from the gate.

"Thanks, Mose, I'll handle this."

"You want me to get some of the men?"

"No, you go on. There won't be any trouble." Too late for that. Baron stood at the top of the verandah steps, thumbs hooked in his pant pockets. He watched them slow as they neared the house and then stop, leaning on their saddle horns.

"Mr. Landsman, I'm Sheriff Colt Treblehorn of Sunrise. This is my Deputy, Jeremy Child. Here to talk to you about Mr. Casey, and some trouble a few of your boys made during our jamboree."

"Nothing to do with me."

Colt sat back and stretched his chest. "Lyin' ain't a good start, Mr. Landsman. Everyone knows your reputation, and gettin' Casey's claim ain't a big stretch to imagine. Arley Rudman and two others tried to interfere with the registration of Mr. Casey's claim, and we both know they worked for you. Two of them won't be doin' that any more, and when I arrest Rudman, neither will he."

"Look around if you like. No Arley Rudman here. You're wasting my time."

"I'll take that offer." Colt dismounted and climbed the verandah steps. "S'pose we start inside."

"Now look here--"

"You said I could look around." He brushed past the man and entered the ranch house.

Jeremy eased his carbine out of the scabbard as he saw several hands drifting his way from the bunkhouse. They stopped close to him in a crooked circle.

"Lookin' for Arley Rudman. Any of you know where he is?"

The men stayed quiet. Staring.

"Okay, the Sheriff is inside with your boss, so maybe we should just wait and see what they find."

"You won't find nuthin', and you should think about gettin' off the property." A hard looking hand stepped forward, stopping as the barrel of the carbine centred on him.

"I think we'll wait, like I said."

Inside, Baron followed from room to room, whining and threatening, as Colt checked out the house. In the kitchen, he stopped and asked Hetta about Rudman.

"She doesn't know anything," Baron insisted. He gave her a warning glare.

"That right, ma'am? You don't know Arley Rudman?"

Hetta looked down at the carrot she was peeling and didn't answer.

"I told you she knows nothing. She's just hired help."

The words stung, and years of tolerating the verbal abuse from a man she devoted all her care to came to a sudden boil.

"I knows him, Sheriff."

"Hetta!"

"You settle down, Landsman. Tell me Hetta, is he here on the ranch?"

"No sir. Him and three others have gone to give that poor Mr. Casey grief."

"HETTA!"

"Thank you, ma'am." Colt turned on Landsman. "You touch this woman in any way, and I'll be back to see you wish you were never born."

"You can't come in here and tell me what I can and can't do."

"I just did, and you better heed what I said." Colt gripped Baron's shirt front and held him on his toes against the wall.

"Don't hurt him, please, Sheriff." Hetta looked on with pity.

"You heard me. He does one thing, you get me." Colt released the shaken man and stepped quickly past.