Winterborn Ch. 02

The group of men talked quietly among themselves, trying to decide if Dillon was bluffing.

"One more thing to think about," Dillon said. "Even if y'all get Scruggs, how mad is the Marshal gonna be where he finds out you took his prisoner? I sure wouldn't want Wild Bill Hickok on my trail, but that's up to you."

The men hesitated and continued talking to each other. "Y'all go on home and sober up. Tomorrow even if you wished you'd forced the issue, at least you'll be alive. Go on home," Dillon ordered in with a forceful voice.

Two or three minutes later the group walked slowly away, still muttering. Dillon knew the crisis was over; he holstered his pistol, and joined the deputy in front of the jail. "Right interesting wasn't it," Dillon said with a little grin.

"I admire your idea of interesting Mister, "the deputy replied. "Thanks for the help; it could've gotten real serious."

Dillon nodded at the deputy's thanks.

"Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but why did you step in? You a friend of Scruggs'?"

"Wouldn't know him if I saw him," Dillon answered. "I was a deputy marshal over to Wichita Falls for a couple of years; don't like to see anyone disrespect the law."

"I'm Ned Grimes by the way," the deputy said extending his hand.

"Dillon Gallagher," he said shaking hands. "You mentioned that Hickok is the marshal here. Where is he?"

"He's trailing a cowboy that robbed and shot up a saloon last night. Should be back by morning. You know the marshal?"

"Only by reputation. Most wouldn't want to cross him; that's why I mentioned him to that group." Dillon smiled at Ned and said, "Thanks for the entertainment Deputy. Guess I'll turn in."

"Come by the office tomorrow I'm sure the Marshal will want to thank you for your help," Ned suggested.

"No need, besides I'm leaving at daybreak. You got sand Ned, don't let it get you in over your head, hear?" Dillon went back to his room.

Dillon had bought a horse from Mr. Fleming to use as a pack animal and to spell Buck every other day or so. He had a lot more gear than when he rode into Wichita Falls; his ammunition, trail gear, rifle, and shotgun were too much for one horse to carry in addition to a rider. He saddled Buck and the pack animal and left early in the morning.

By the time Marshal Hickok got back and heard the story, Dillon had been on the road for three hours. Guess I could have stayed a day and got to meet a legend, Dillon thought as he rode. He chuckled at his 'hero worship' and continued to ride toward Amarillo.

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It took twenty two days for Dillon to get to Amarillo. He could have made it quicker but he wasn't in a hurry and saw no need to work his horses any harder. Buck was a good animal and well trained and Dillon had no idea when he'd quit drifting so he didn't push the big buckskin. He arrived in Amarillo late on a Friday afternoon and after stabling Buck and the pack horse, Buddy; Dillon got a hotel room for the night.

Early the next morning he headed north to the McCall spread. It took just over an hour to ride up to the ranch house. A big man with red hair was sitting under a big cottonwood tree and watched Dillon ride up. Dillon stopped Buck several feet away.

"Climb down and rest yourself," the big man suggested. "There's water for your horse in the trough there and I'll have one of the kids bring you some coffee, if you've a taste for it."

"Thanks you," Dillon said as he dismounted. "Looking for the McCall spread."

"Your search is over son. I'm Jess McCall and this is my place. Who might you be?"

"Name's Dillon Gallagher." Dillon led Buck over to the water and let him drink a little; then tied him to the hitching rail in front of the house. Somehow McCall had signaled to the house and a young boy about twelve brought two cups of coffee for the men.

"And what can I do for you Mr. Gallagher?"

"Nothing sir. I served with your son Charley at Manassas in '61. I just wanted to stop by and tell you that he was fine officer and served with honor," Dillon replied solemnly.

Mr. McCall got a faraway look in his eyes. "All three of my sons fought at Manassas. Charley and Samuel were both killed assaulting the Union flank."

"Yes sir, I know. I was with the First Virginia Cavalry; we were on the right flank of 29th Texas during that attack. That charge broke the Union lines and led to their retreat," Dillon explained. "Charley and I met and talked for a few hours before the battle. He said that after the war he planned to come home and turn your farm into a real ranch."

The big man gave a little smile and stared into the distance for a few minutes. "Charley couldn't stand being called a farmer. I want to be a rancher not a farmer he always said."

Dillon waited for a couple of minutes to give Mr. McCall a chance to compose himself. "Charley talked about his brother's Samuel and John but I didn't realize they were at Manassas too. What happened to your other two sons, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Samuel was killed during the same charge and Red was wounded but survived."

"Red? Charley said his brothers were Sam and John."

Mr. McCall smiled, "John's his given name but everyone calls him Red. Charley and his mother are the only ones that call him John."

"You said Red was wounded and survived. Did he come back home, I'd like to meet him if he's nearby," Dillon said.

"Yeah, Red came home. He caught a ride with a wagon train somewhere in Oklahoma. He got home and saw the passel of people living here and decided to keep headin west. He went on to Santa Fe with the wagons and then he joined up with Josh Kelly and Jerry Barnes. They decided to go up to Colorado from there."

"I'm glad he made it back Mr. McCall. Do you hear from him at all?"

"Get a letter every month. He and his partners bought a ranch in Chico Basin near a little town name Fountain. He got married to a girl up there and they've got two kids now. We went up to see them little over a year ago." McCall paused and smiled. "The boy's turned into a man with a great family."

Dillon nodded and returned McCall's smile. "Glad he's doing well."

"You're welcome to spend the night Mr. Gallagher. You can share a bed or we'll make you a pallet on the floor if you like. Personally I'd sleep in the barn, the hay in the loft makes a right nice featherbed."

"Thank you for the invitation but I can put a lot of miles in before dark. I think I'll hit the trail," Dillon replied.

"None of my business but where you headed son?"

"Don't really know yet. Heard there's some pretty country around Prescott, Arizona; guess I'll find out when I get there," Dillon said smiling.

The two men shook hands and Dillon mounted Buck and grabbed the lead rope of Buddy. Before he rode off McCall said, "I hope you find what you're looking for son."

Dillon nodded his thanks and turned Buck and Buddy west.

To be continued...