Poisoned Dollars: A Western Adventure (A Sean Prentis Western Book 1) by Stuart G. Yates

Author:Stuart G. Yates [Yates, Stuart G.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: DS Productions
Published: 2022-01-23T06:00:00+00:00

13

THE LAWMAN

West Kansas, 1882

The following day dragged by, Prentis keeping himself busy checking exercise books, all work completed, answers to arithmetic questions all correct, sentences well-constructed. The same routine he followed day in day out, punctuated only by the occasional break for a game of baseball if the sun was shining, or some artwork if the rain came sheeting down. Often Prentis would stand directly above the void beneath his feet, knowing what was there, waiting like a silent, sinister creature for the right moment to pounce. And pounce it would. When this living nightmare ended and Reynes returned to take it all away.

He often thought like this now, going deep within himself, lost in the awfulness of it. He found solace in the surrounding countryside, the endless plains, the distant mountains, almost always topped with snow. Some said that beyond those mountains, the land stretched out forever and now that the Indians had all-but gone, all shut up safely in their grizzly reservations, a man could find sweet water and lush grass, mould a good life for himself and his kin. Farm the land, be safe, be happy.

“Mr Prentis?”

The sound of the gruff voice behind him caused him to jump and spin around. Some of the children were laughing, one little girl in a blue dress cried out and Amy immediately comforted her. Things were fine.

“I’m sorry to barge in on you like this,” said the man. Dressed in black, his high hat making him appear even taller than he naturally was, it was the gun at his waist, which took all of Prentis’s attention. It hung on his left side, angled for a cross-belly draw. A gunfighter’s rig. Prentis tried not to swallow too hard. He failed.

“Can I help you?”

“Sure hope so.”

A tiny tot, a boy of no more than four years of age, slammed into the stranger’s legs, encircling his small arms around the man’s booted calf. “I got ya!”

The stranger looked appalled and Amy appeared, releasing the stranger from the tot’s grip. “I’m so sorry, he’s just so very friendly!”

“No matter at all, ma’am,” said the man, doffing his hat. “He’s a volcano that one.”

Amy had the boy in her arms, both of them laughing. The atmosphere eased a little.

Prentis struggled to keep the alarm out of his voice. His heart beat so hard in his chest he was sure everyone could hear it. He cleared his throat. “You were saying?”

The man frowned. “Ah, yes. Apologies, Mr Prentis. My name is O’Mara. You won’t know me, but I’m the US Marshal out of Reno and I’m on the—”

“Reno?” Something hard and cold developed in Prentis’s gut and he reached out for one of the small rickety chairs the children used and sat down on it. “Oh … Reno, that’s a fair ride away so what … What is this all about, Marshal?”

“Got a Cree with me. Name of Singing Trees. Don’t ask me why, that’s just how it translates.” He turned and bellowed the Indian’s name. Most of the commotion in the schoolroom stopped and an expectant silence descended.

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