Free Trail of the Hanged Man by Steve Hayes Page B

drizzle. Only the ground remained a reminder of the recent deluge: it was now a quagmire in which boots sank up to the ankles.
    Earlier, Sven had insisted the Morgans stay at his place while Joey recuperated. Violet, too proud to accept charity, agreed on one condition: that she would be allowed to earn their keep by doing chores. Sven grudgingly agreed, but warned Violet not to let his daughter talk her into doing her chores, too. Raven hateddoing chores more than anything, he said, and when she put her mind to it, could charm the crows out of the trees.
    Now, with brother and sister snugly tucked under a slicker in the back of the wagon, Sven and Lawless finished hitching up the team and prepared to leave.
    Flanked by his deputies, Sheriff Tishman watched from the doorway of the house. He was the only one who was happy about what was going on. He rocked gently on his heels, thumbs tucked in his belt, enjoying the pain he was causing Violet and Joey.
    ‘Go ahead, smirk,’ she said bitterly. ‘You haven’t seen the last of us. Just ’cause you forced Joey and me to leave doesn’t mean we won’t be back.’
    ‘Sh-she’s right,’ Joey said weakly. ‘And next time I jump you on the trail, you big tub of fat, won’t be nobody to save you from a rope.’
    Lawless sensed the boy had gone too far. About to climb on to the wagon, he saw the sheriff angrily spin around and storm into the house. There, he grabbed the hurricane lamp and hurled it against the wall. The glass shield shattered, kerosene splashing everywhere. Flames flared up, quickly engulfing the curtains and log walls beside the window. Picking up a second, unlighted lamp the sheriff threw it against the opposite wall and ran out. The flames spread to the spilled kerosene, ignited, and within moments the house was ablaze. Smoke from the wet logs spewed everywhere.
    With a cry of dismay, Violet pushed the slicker aside and scrambled over the side of the wagon. Sven whirled his horse around and grabbed her before she reached the ground. She screamed for him to let her go. When he wouldn’t, she tried to break free. But Sven was too strong and finally Violet stopped struggling and burst into tears. Sven held her to him and did his best to calm her.
    He’d almost succeeded when Sheriff Tishman approached with his deputies. He grinned mockingly at Violet and Joey.
    ‘Reckon next time, you young’uns won’t be so damn’ quick to spout off.’
    Incensed, Violet again tried to break loose. But she was helpless in Sven’s powerful grip. Finally she stopped struggling and cursed the sheriff through her tears. Joey joined in. But their rage and frustration only amused the big lawman and he stood there, contentedly sucking on a lemon drop.
    It was then Lawless came out of the swirling smoke.
    He didn’t walk out. He seemed to appear, like a shadow in sunlight, the crackling roar of the flames hiding any sound he made as he walked toward the sheriff. Though none of the fury he felt showed on his face, and he carried no weapon, there was a vengeful lethalness about him that was frightening.
    Instantly, the deputies covered him with their rifles.
    Lawless kept walking.
    Sheriff Tishman wet his lips uneasily. ‘I ain’t never shot an unarmed man, mister. But if you’n that wagonload of whelps don’t haul out of here, I swear I’ll make you the first.’
    Lawless showed no sign of hearing him.
    If there was any fear, it was in the hearts of the armed deputies.
    ‘Ben.…’ Sven rode up alongside him. ‘He means it.’
    Lawless stopped, less than a foot from the deputies’ rifles, and pinned the sheriff with an unforgiving stare.
    ‘Ben!’
    Lawless came back from a lonely, dark, far-off place.
    A tree … a hangman’s noose … a ring of riders, mocking him as he slowly choked … the images gradually faded from his mind. When they were gone, so was the rage blazing in his soul and his amber eyes looked at Sven as if seeing him for the first time.
    ‘Time