Rondo (The Landon Saga Book 4) by Cotten Tell

Author:Cotten, Tell [Cotten, Tell]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Solstice Publishing
Published: 2014-09-01T04:00:00+00:00

***

Jeremiah was old and couldn’t afford any help. Because of that, the ranch headquarters was in bad shape. The pole corrals sagged and the barn was about to fall down.

However, as we rode up we noticed that the corrals had been repaired, and the barn had been rebuilt. There were also several horses in the corrals.

“Jeremiah’s been busy,” Ross noted.

“Somebody has,” I replied.

We heard the sound of hammering. We looked over at the house, and there were two young fellers working on the roof.

“Looks like Jeremiah hired some help,” Ross commented.

I pinched my face in thought as we rode over.

I didn’t know how, but for some reason I knew that Jeremiah was dead.

Something snapped inside of me as soon as I realized that, and I felt an odd feeling deep inside. It was sorta like what I’d felt before, only more hostile and irritable.

They spotted us and climbed down. Their rifles were on the porch, and they stood by them.

One was bigger than the other.

The bigger one stood over six feet tall, and he had a muscled torso with dark hair. The smaller one was leaner and had red hair.

I recognized the bigger one. He had been in town the night I killed Scar-face.

“What do you want?” The bigger one demanded.

I ignored his question as I dismounted. Ross did the same, and we walked up to them and stopped.

“Morning,” I said.

“What do you want?” He asked again.

“I have a few questions,” I said.

“I ain’t gonna tell you anything,” he sneered, and then he stuck his face within inches of mine. “You killed a friend of mine the other night. You’d best git before I get ugly.”

Without saying a word, I palmed my Colt with a fast but easy movement. I struck him in the side of the face, and he fell backwards. I holstered my Colt as he hit the ground.

My face was emotionless while he grimaced in pain and rolled around on the ground. Meanwhile, Ross and the smaller one jumped in surprise.

“You cracked my skull!” He screamed.

“I bet it hurts too,” I said, and asked, “You gonna answer my questions now?”

He sat up and glared at me. Blood ran from his nose and dribbled off his chin.

“What do you wanna know?” He asked in a subdued voice.

“Who do you ride for?”

“Ike Nash,” he said.

“What’s your name?”

“Brock Jackson.”

I nodded and looked at the smaller one.

“And you?”

He swallowed nervously and said, “I’m Rory. Rory Wheeler.”

“Where is Jeremiah?” I asked them.

“Who?” Brock asked.

“He owns the ranch,” I explained.

“No, he doesn’t,” Brock snorted.

Soon as he said that, Rory looked down at the ground.

“Then who does?” I narrowed my eyes.

“Ike Nash,” Brock said.

I glanced at Ross and looked back at Brock.

“What happened to Jeremiah?” I asked.

“Who says anything happened to him?”

I frowned at that. It fell silent, and Rory shifted his feet nervously.

“How ‘bout you?” I asked Rory. “You know anything?”

Brock gave him a threatening glare, and Rory swallowed hard and shook his head.

“No, sir,” he said quietly.

“We don’t know nothing,” Brock spoke back up.

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