Free Gunsmoke Justice by Louis Trimble

road, and then lifted his eyes to look at the sheriff. “And what if Quarles’ crew decide not to obey your law?”
    Before stubbornness froze McFee’s expression, Brad saw a fine line of worry. Here might be the man’s true weakness; he had never been forced to test himself. He did not know how he would stand up in a fight.
    “Ever had much trouble here, sheriff?”
    “No,” McFee said shortly.
    “As I thought,” Brad said. “Thanks for the hospitality.”
    The sheriff watched Brad follow the alley northward, with Olaf riding rigidly behind him.
    “No trouble yet,” McFee muttered. “But there will be. He’s the kind that draws it — or goes out after it.”
    He turned toward the house and was reminded of Faith. Inside, he went to her. His glance was enough for her to know how he felt. Their affection for each other was deep, and she let him see it in a smile.
    “He’s a rough man,” McFee commented. “If Quarles wants a fight, Jordan will give it to him.”
    “Fighting,” she said bitterly.
    “Your Dave Arden is supposed to be fighting Quarles,” McFee pointed out.
    “Dave is careful,” she answered defensively. “Quarles has too many men, too much strength.” The sheriff didn’t answer, and she broke out, “You don’t like Dave, do you?”
    “No,” he told her, “I never have.” He scratched behind his ear, frowning, hunting the words. “But it’s your life, Faith. You’re a grown woman, a thinking woman, and you do with it what you believe best.”
    She smoothed her apron over the green dress. Her smile was faint. “I think it best to see Dave and tell him the kind of man June has hired.” She paused, adding, “Dave and Jordan won’t get along. Dave is thoughtful and careful. Jordan is rash and brutal. He’ll try to rush things.”
    “It’s about time, maybe, things was rushed,” McFee mumbled. “But like I said, it’s your life. Ride to Dave if you want.”
    “No woman can put her skirts around a man to keep him safe,” Faith said.
    “The kind that would let her ain’t worth having,” the sheriff said. Going to the stove, he poured himself a cup of coffee and took it to the table. He sat down and filled his pipe, smoking in somber silence.
    “Jordan’s a troubled man, Faith, for all of his talk.” He shook his head slowly. “A troubled man is a troublesome man. I’ve seen his kind before. Land-hungry, but always drifting. Never finding just what they’re looking for. Because what they’re looking for is always in their heads like a dream. The world’s not made out of dreams. And when a man like Jordan finds that out, he’s disappointed, and rides on.”
    Faith sighed. “Jordan is a fighter,” she said slowly. “If what you said is right, June needs fighters. Maybe that’s why Dave hasn’t done much before: he hasn’t enough fighters. Now he will have.”
    Her uncle regarded her quietly, feeling the bitterness in her voice, hearing the hopelessness of a woman who hated fighting and yet was coming to realize that in some cases it might be the only way.
    She sounded as if she were talking to herself, putting her thoughts into words. “But Dave is no fighter. That’s not his way.”
    McFee nodded. “That’s what I’ve been thinking. It’s like you said; Jordan and Arden won’t get along at all. Jordan will ride in there full of ideas, but Arden will be his boss.
    “How is it going to help June if her foreman and her hired gunhand are fighting each other instead of the Double Q?” He took a deep puff on his pipe. “Maybe I was wrong in sending him to her place.”
    Faith said quietly, “Yes, I think you were wrong,” and went back into the kitchen.

CHAPTER NINE
    I T WAS A FINE MORNING and Brad rode with his head to the breeze, getting the most of it. The air had that rare freshness of the open just before sunrise, and the dew underfoot made the grass sweet. The more Brad studied this country the more it got into him.
    Some distance out of town the