Killing Halfbreed by Mason Zack

Author:Mason, Zack [Mason, Zack]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction - Mystery, Fiction - Christian, Fiction - Western
Publisher: Dogwood Publishing
Published: 2012-08-16T06:00:00+00:00

Carlton Andrews pulled his coat collar snug around his neck to stave off the biting wind. Winter was almost upon them. He tugged his black fedora down further, wishing he could pull it over his ears.

Sometimes business required one to get one's hands dirty. It was an avenue Carlton didn’t like to take if he didn’t have to, but certain situations could sometimes make the option unavoidable.

The Talbot ranch was such a case. Knowing what he knew about that property, he could not allow Talbot to retain it. It was key. The man didn’t even know what he was sitting on; nobody did but him. If Talbot lost it, he’d never really know the fullness of what he’d lost, but Carlton lay awake at night fretting over the possibility. He could not let Talbot keep it — nor anyone else for that matter.

Rob Murphy would be at the line shack tonight. Carlton studied the crude structure before approaching. A thin line of smoke rose from a small stone chimney on its side. It was a rough building, just shelter enough for a few cowhands riding the line.

Was Murphy alone? He didn’t see any other horses around, so he probably was. Never hurt to be cautious though, especially when dealing with nefarious individuals. One never knew what they had up their sleeve.

After a moment more of circumspection, he drew closer and rapped sharply on the door. It swung open, revealing a clean-shaven Rob Murphy, top hand and foreman of Bill Hartford's ranch. A dirty-looking cigarette hung limply from his lips.

"Well, well, I’ll be. Wasn't expectin' you tonight, Carlton."

"Don't sass me, Murph, I've got a lot on my mind."

"Only friends call me Murph."

"Business partners are closer than friends, Murph, so get used to it. I don't have time for games."

The cowhand bristled at the banker's brusqueness. He wasn't used to putting up with that kind of lip from people. That was one of the reasons he was the foreman of Hartford's ranch. He and Hartford saw eye to eye on things like that.

Carlton Andrews wasn't ordinary people though. Murph couldn't treat Andrews like any old cowpuncher, so he had to take it. For now.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Carlton." He couldn't keep all the sarcasm out of his voice.

Andrews stepped deeper into the shack and began warming his hands in front of the fire.

"Jake Talbot’s what's on my mind. His brother took out a mortgage on his ranch and failed to pay it back before he disappeared. Now, his brother is refusing to pay as well."

"So? What's that got to do with me? Take it up with the sheriff."

"Unfortunately, I seem to have misplaced the mortgage document, so I cannot prove my claim sufficiently to the sheriff."

"You lost it?" Murph snickered under his breath at the banker's obvious corruption. "What is it you want me to do?"

"I want you and your boys to rustle Talbot's cattle."

"We're already doing that. Stole a few head the other night. Can't be too obvious, or repeat ranches too often.

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