Wildcat by Sharon Ihle

Author:Sharon Ihle
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: ePublishing Works!
Published: 2012-07-31T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Later that same evening, Luke entered the Bella Union Theater, the structure Jack Langrishe had leased while repairs were being made on his own damaged building. Tonight there would be no singing or dancing, no laughter or applause. Tonight the outraged citizens of Deadwood had decided to hold a miners' court in order to try Jack McCall for the murder of James Butler Hickok.

Luke chose to sit on a bench at the back of the hall. If he were close enough to look McCall in the eye, he knew he would never be able to listen to the interrogation, much less allow the man to live long enough to hang. No, he would have to wait until after the trial to extract some small measure of revenge for the best friend a man could have had—whether through the hangman's noose or his very own Colt. Luke slid his hands down along his hips, feeling decidedly naked without his guns, and cursed the committee that had voted to confiscate all weapons at the door.

A group of miners filed by him, their holsters empty, and the theater began to fill. Luke noted sourly that the crowd was comprised more of morbidly curious people than actual friends of the man he'd come to regard as a father figure. And then in through the door came Stormy, accompanied by her very agitated sister. He quickly looked away, trying to blend in with the wall, but Calamity spotted him.

She leaned in close to Stormy and whispered, "Go sit with him, and make sure he don't do nothing stupid when they bring McCall in. Luke's what they call a good friend but a bad enemy. No telling what he's a planning for Crooked Nose. I got to go sit in front so's they don't forget I'm witnessing."

As Calamity continued down the aisle, Stormy seated herself on the bench beside Luke. His gaze flickered over to her, and then he looked away. Trying to reach out to him in any way she could, she quietly said, "I'm so sorry about what happened. I know how much Mr. Hickok must have meant to you."

In spite of the wall of steel he'd erected around himself, the intentional numbing of his very core, Luke flinched at her words. She didn't know a thing. She couldn't have. How could she possibly know what Bill had meant to him when he hadn't realized it himself until this afternoon? Hell, he hadn't felt this much grief the day they'd buried his father. And for a very good reason. David McCanles had never earned the kind of respect Luke held for Bill Hickok.

He glanced at Stormy, noting the concern in her soft gray eyes. No, she didn't understand, and probably never would accept the fact that a man could turn from his natural father and then throw in with the man who killed him. But he needed to say something to her, to acknowledge her attempts to console him.

It wasn't her fault he

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