Kingdom Come

Book 5: Duff MacCallister Western

by William W. Johnstone, J.A. Johnstone

Genres: Westerns

Synopsis

From best-selling authors William W. Johnstone and JA Johnstone comes a blazing new saga of Duff MacAllister. One man, forging a destiny. One legacy, sworn to justice. One name, branded in the heart of America...

The legend lives!

The Scottish Highlands, 1885. Two men, brandishing knives, attack a young woman outside a pub. Duff MacAllister steps in and saves her - killing one of the assailants. Big mistake. The attacker was the sheriff's son, and now MacAllister is marked for death. His only hope: America. Here, in the sprawling land of dreams, Duff hopes to start a new life with his American cousins. Unfortunately, the sheriff's deputies are tracking him down - with nine of the deadliest cutthroats money can buy. Blazing a trail of blood and bullets all the way to the Rockies, Duff has to kill his enemies one by one - or die trying. But this time, Duff is not alone. He has a new ally by his side. A living legend of frontier justice. His cousin, the gunslinger known as Falcon MacAllister...

Release date: April 1, 2015

Publisher: Pinnacle Books

Print pages: 336

Sample

Riding along, minding his own business, Duff MacCallister crested the hill and was stopped by a man holding a pistol in one hand, the reins of his horse in the other.

“That’s far enough, friend,” growled the man.

“Och, it’s friend that you call me, but you’ve a pistol in your hand. That would nae be the way to be greeting a friend now, would it?”

“It’s only for a couple minutes, till we get our business done. We don’t want anyone comin’ along to interfere with what needs to be done.”

It wasn’t until then that Duff noticed four more men down at the bottom of the hill, some one hundred yards distant. One of them had his hands behind his back. One was holding a rope.

“And what business would that be, if you don’t mind the tellin’?”

The man nodded toward the base of the hill. “As you can see, we’re about to hang someone.”

“I take it he’s nae been sentenced by a court, for I know of no court that would hang someone from a tree out in the middle of nowhere.”

“Ha! You got that right. The only court this sumbitch has been to, is us.”

“Who is us?”

“Us? That’s me ’n my three friends. That’s who us is.”

“And would ye be for tellin’ me what the lad’s crime might be?”

“What’s his crime? I’ll tell you what his crime is. He’s a Chinaman.”

Duff frowned. “Is he now? Sure, and I wasn’t aware it was against the law to be a Chinaman.”

“It ain’t only that. He’s a Chinaman that don’t know his place. He come into town drivin’ a surrey ’n sittin’ right there on the seat beside him was a white woman holdin’ a baby.”

Duff tipped his head to one side. “And was it his baby?”

“The baby didn’t look Chinese, but that don’t make no never mind. He had no business being with ’em.”

“What did the white woman have to say about the situation?”

“We didn’t give her no choice to say nothin’ about it. It’s more ’n likely that all she woulda done is just lie about it. Anyhow, she’s done got hers.” The man chuckled. “We laid the whip on her good. Now the Chinaman is about to get his.”

Duff reached down to wrap his hand around his rifle. “I don’t think so.”

“What do you mean you don—”

That was as far as he got before Duff swung the rifle around, smashing it against the side of the man’s head and sweeping him out of his saddle. He lay unconscious on the road as Duff slapped his legs against the sides of his horse, urging Sky into a gallop. As he approached the others, they looked around toward him. Not one of the men was holding a gun in his hand. Duff was holding a pistol, having slipped the rifle back into its sheath.

“Here, what is this?” one of the men asked.

“I’ll be thanking you to let the gentleman go,” Duff said, his Scottish brogue thick.

“Gentleman? What gentleman?”

“The gentleman whose hands you are about to untie.”

“Mister, maybe you don’t know, but this here Chinaman was with a white woman. We can’t just let him—”

Obscenities filled the air, coming from the man Duff had encountered moments earlier. Holding a rifle to his shoulder, he fired it, the bullet frying the air so close to Duff’s head that he could hear it pop as it passed by.

Duff returned fire with his pistol, dropping his assailant with one shot. He turned back to the others. “Would you be so kind as to cut him loose now?” he asked in a calm voice.

“Mister, you’ve got no business interfering in this.”

“Do you speak English?” Duff asked the Chinese man who, through it all, had been sitting quietly in the saddle, awaiting his fate.

“I speak English.”

“What is your name?”

“I am Wang Chow.”

“Wang, it seems like every Chinaman I’ve ever known is a good cook. Are you a good cook, Wang?”

“Here! What the hell is all this?” cried the man holding the rope. “We’re about to hang this devil, and you want to know if he is a good cook?”

“Please, don’t interrupt my interview with this man.”

“Huh? Your interview?”

Duff cocked the pistol and pointed it straight at the man’s head. “I asked you nicely not to interrupt my interview.”

The man put both hands up, palms facing out, fingers spread wide. “All right, all right, I ain’t a-stoppin’ you.”

“Mr. Wang, I am thinking about hiring a cook. Are you a good cook”

“I am very sorry, but I am not a good cook,” Wang admitted.

“I admire your courage and your honesty. All you would have had to say is that you are a good cook, and that would save you from being hung. So, let me ask you this. If I hired you as my cook, would you be willing to learn?”

Wang, finally realizing what was going on, smiled broadly. “I will learn to be a very good cook.”

“Mr. Wang, my name is MacCallister. Duff MacCallister. You’re hired.” He turned to the man who had been the spokesman for the group. “As you can see, sir, I do have a vested interest in the fate of this gentleman, as he is now one of my employees. I would be very disturbed if someone tried do something such as . . . well, let’s just say, hang one of my employees. Now untie his hands.”

“The hell we will!” shouted the third man. Jerking his gun from his holster, he snapped a shot toward Duff and missed.

Duff returned fire, and didn’t miss. “So far this little encounter has cost you half your number,” he said to the remaining two gunmen. “You can either untie Mr. Wang, now, or I will kill both of you and untie him myself.”

“Untie him, Floyd, untie him!”

“That will not be necessary,” Wang said, bringing both hands around front to show that they weren’t tied.

“What the hell? How did you do that? It’s impossible for you to get your hands free. I tied them myself,” said the man with Floyd.

“Mr. Wang, if you would, sir, please collect their guns, including the guns from the man who is on the ground.”

Wang dismounted.

“Wait a minute. I ain’t about to give my guns to no Chinaman!” Floyd said.

“Oh, I think you will. You will either give them to him willingly, or I will arrange for him to take them from you just like he will be collecting them from your dead friend.”

“Do it, Floyd, do it!” insisted his partner, his voice still animated by fear.

“This ain’t right!” Floyd objected. “There ain’t nothin’ right about this!”

“Their rifles as well, Wang.”

Grumbling, the men gave up their rifles.

“That horse you were sitting on. Is it yours?” Duff asked Wang.

“Hell no, that ain’t his horse. It’s mine,” Floyd said. “We just brung it here for the hangin’.”

“Can you read and write, Floyd?” Duff asked.

“Can I read and write? Hell yes, I can read ’n write.”

“How much did you pay for that horse?”

“Mister, what the hell difference does it make to you how much I paid for that horse?”

“I plan to buy this horse from you, Floyd. I can’t have Mr. Wang walking now, can I?”

“Buy it? You mean, with cash money?”

“Yes, of course I mean with cash money. It just so happens that I am returning from a trip where I sold some stock.” Reaching into his saddlebag, Duff pulled out a piece of paper. “And by a fortuitous set of events, I also have a printed bill of sale here that is blank, left over from my business transactions. I’m going to give you one hundred dollars for the horse, and the saddle. And you are going to sign this bill of sale over to me.”

“What the hell? The saddle alone is worth a hunnert dollars,” Floyd complained.

“You really aren’t in a position to bargain right now,” Duff pointed out as he began to fill in the blanks of the bill of sale. He turned to Floyd’s partner. “You. What’s your name?”

“What do you need my name for?”

“You’re going to sign as a witness.”

“It’s Durant. John Durant.”

“And his name? Beside Floyd, I mean.”

“It’s Russell. Floyd Russell,” Durant said.

At the same time Durant said Russell, Russell said, “Smith.” Realizing that Durant had spoken, he added, “Damn you, Durant, what for did you give him my real name?”

Duff secured the signatures of both men, then, putting the bill of sale in his pocket, he gave Russell five twenty-dollar bills. After that, he made the men dismount.

“What the hell? You only paid for one horse. You plannin’ on takin’ all of them?” Russell asked.

“Just to keep you two men alive,” Duff said.

“How is leavin’ us stranded goin’ to keep us alive?” Durant asked.

“Because if I left the horses with you, no doubt, you would try to come after us. And if you did that, I would have to kill you.”

“You’re a funny man, mister. You buy one horse, ’n you steal three,” Russell said.

“I’m nae stealing the horses. About ten miles ahead, you’ll come to the town of Le Bonte. I’ll be leavin’ the horses with the local constabulary, in your name. All you have to do is call for them and pay their keep.”

“Le Bonte? That’s where we come from. You show up in Le Bonte with that Chinaman on a stole horse, what do you think is goin’ to happen to you?”

“Och, but the horse isn’t stolen now, is it? Sure ’n I have a bill of sale confirming that I bought the horse from you.”

Russell frowned. “You don’t expect us to walk ten miles, do you?”

“Aye, you’ll have to now, won’t you? For ’tis a sure and certain thing that Le Bonte won’t be coming to you.”

“What about our guns?” Durant asked.

“They’ll be with your horses. Mr. Wang, since you’re having to keep up with the guns, I’ll take charge of the three horses. Shall we go?”

“We go,” Wang said.

Suddenly and unexpectedly, but in a coordinated move that the two men must have planned, Durant and Russell lunged toward Wang Chow in an attempt to recover their guns.

Wang dropped the guns and pivoted on his left foot while driving his right foot into first Russell’s, then Durant’s face. Both men went down.

“Well now, that is a neat trick,” Duff said. “It makes me wonder how they were able to capture you in the first place.”

“They pointed guns at the woman,” Wang said as he retrieved the weapons.

“They threatened to shoot a woman? What an unpleasant lot I stumbled into today.”

“As you are now my employer, I ask your permission to check upon the woman.”

“Of course we will. Is she your woman?”

“No,” Wang said without further explanation.

“You’ve got too many guns to keep up with very easily. I’ll take half of them. And, seeing as you aren’t armed, perhaps you should strap on one of the holsters.”

Wang shook his head. “I have no need for guns.”

Duff chuckled. “After seeing you in action back there, I can almost believe you.”

As Duff and Wang rode into town leading riderless horses, people on the street and board sidewalks stopped to stare.

“Ain’t that the Chinaman Russell ’n the others had with them this mornin’?” a man asked his neighbor.

“Hey, mister. Who are you?” someone else shouted at Duff. “What are you doin’ with that Chinaman? Where at is Russell, McGill, Alberson, and Durant?”

Neither MacCallister nor Wang answered the shouted question. They rode directly to the town marshal’s office, tied off the horses, and went inside. Two badge-wearing men were drinking coffee and engaged in an animated conversation. They looked up, the expression on their faces showing their surprise at seeing the Chinaman.

“Which of you is the marshal?” Duff asked.

“We ain’t neither one the marshal,” said one. “We’re deputies. The marshal has gone to Cheyenne to report on a lynchin’. Only this here Chinaman is the one we thought was lynched.”

“You made no effort to stop it?”

“Hell, mister, half the town was in on it. They was only three of us. What was we s’posed to do?”

“Where are the woman and baby?” Wang asked.

“If I was you, Chinaman, I’d stay away from that woman, seein’ as that’s what got you into trouble in the first place,” the short deputy said.

“Where are the woman and the child?” Duff asked.

“Well sir, after she got whupped, she got took down to Doctor Dunaway’s office. More ’n likely that’s where you’ll find her now.”

“Thank you. Oh, you will find four horses tied up out front. Eventually two men will call for them.”

“Two men? What about the other two?”

“They are dead.”

Duff and Wang found the woman in the doctor’s office.

Her eyes opened wide and the expression on her face was one of relief and joy when she saw Wang. “Oh! You are alive! Thank God, you are alive!”

Dr. Dunaway was just as surprised to see Wang. “What happened? I was told that the men who took you planned to hang you.”

Wang nodded. “That was their plan, but this man stopped them.”

“Oh, bless you,” the woman said. “I have been feeling so bad about all this, knowing that it was my fault. How innocent we were. No one would listen, and this man’s good deed was nearly repaid by him being murdered. Oh, Mister—” She stopped. “I never even learned your name.”

“I am Wang Chow.”

“Mr. Wang, you were nearly killed for your good deed. I can’t thank you enough for what you did for my baby and me.”

“How is the baby?” Wang asked the doctor.

“The baby will be just fine, thanks to you. He was very dehydrated when he got here, but I’ve been giving him water a little at a time. He’s a strong little boy. It’s Mrs. Harrison I’ve been worried about. I can’t believe anyone could be so evil as to take a bullwhip to a defenseless woman.”

“Has Mr. Wang told you what happened? I mean, how it was that we wound up together?” Mrs. Harrison asked Duff.

“I have not pried.”

“He saved my life, that’s what happened. He saved my life and the life of my baby. My husband, Lieutenant Harrison, was killed two weeks ago in a tragic accident at Fort Fetterman. I was on the way with my baby to Cheyenne to catch the train to go back home to Ohio. On the way here, the horse pulling the surrey stepped into a prairie dog hole and broke his leg. He suffered for a long time. I had not brought a gun with me so I had no way of putting the poor creature out of his misery.

“I kept hoping someone would come along who could help. I didn’t think I could walk all the way to the next town, carrying a baby. By the end of the second day water and food were gone, and I knew we were going to have to try. By then, mercifully, the horse had died.

“On the morning of the third day, just as we were about to leave, this gentleman came along.” She pointed to Wang. “He had water and food, which he shared, and he disconnected the surrey from poor Harry, connected his own horse to it, and drove us into town.”

Dr. Dunaway took up the story. “Some of our seamier citizens took over then. They became incensed at seeing a white woman with a Chinaman. They pulled her down from the surrey and threatened to kill her if Mr. Wang didn’t go with them. When Mrs. Harrison tried to protest, they took a bullwhip to her.”

“Why didn’t someone in the town try to intercede?” Duff questioned.

“Most were too frightened to do anything and some, I am sorry to say, agreed with what was happening.”

“How long before Mrs. Harrison and the child will be able to travel?”

“Oh, they can travel now,” Dr. Dunaway said. “I have put a lotion and bandages on her back to keep down the infection. And, as I said, the baby is strong as a horse.”

Duff smiled at Mrs. Harrison. “Then I suggest we go down to the stagecoach depot and put you on the next coach to Cheyenne.”

“Oh, I can’t take the coach. If I do, I won’t have enough money to buy the train ticket.”

“Where is your surrey?”

“I don’t know.” Mrs. Harrison shrugged. “I don’t know what happened to it or to my luggage. My baby and I have no clothes except for what I’m wearing.”

Duff offered a suggestion. “You no longer have need of your surrey. Suppose I give you three hundred dollars for it? That will give you enough money for a coach ticket and for new clothes.”

“Three hundred dollars? Why, even if I could find it, I don’t know if it is worth that much.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll find it.”

Tears formed Mrs. Harrison’s eyes. She reached out to take first Duff’s hand, then Wang’s hand. “I thank you both, so much. I can’t help but feel that Michael is in heaven, looking down on us, and that, somehow, he sent the two of you to me. God bless both of you.”

Duff and Wang Chow reached the ranch and dismounted.

Elmer Gleason, Duff’s foreman and friend, came out to greet them. “What’s this Chinaman doin’ here?”

“He has come to work for us.”

“Really? Just what kind of work do you have in mind for ’im?”

“He’s going to cook.” Duff handed his reins to a cowboy and nodded to Wang to do the same.

“Well, Chinamen have been known to make pretty good cooks.” Elmer glared at the young Chinese man.

Wang returned Elmer’s gaze with an expression of trepidation.

Then Elmer smiled and stuck his hand out. “Wei biao shi win hou. Huanying.”

Wang Chow’s smile was broad as Elmer’s, and he took the foreman’s hand and shook it enthusiastically. “Wei biao shi win hou.”

“Elmer, would you be for telling me what you and the young Celestial lad just said?”

“I just said hello, and I welcomed him. He said hello back to me.”

“I had no idea you could speak Chinese.”

“I made enough ports of call in China when I was a sailor to pick up some of the lingo.” To Wang he said, “Wo cunzai Elmer.” He pointed to himself.

“Elmer,” Wang repeated, pointing to Elmer. He pointed to himself. “Wo cunazi Wang Chow.”

Duff chuckled. “I see there’s no need to introduce you, you’ve already done that.” He motioned for them to walk toward the house.

“So he’s going to be a cook, huh? That’s a good idea of your’n, gettin’ a cook instead of passin’ it off among all the cowboys. Some of ’em is so bad it’s a wonder we ain’t none of us been pizened afore now.”

“Wang can’t cook.”

“What? Whoever heard of a Chinaman who can’t cook? Is he tellin’ the truth, Wang? You can’t cook?”

“He tells the truth. I cannot cook.”

“Then why in the Sam Hill did you hire him as a cook, if he can’t cook?”

“It’s a long story,” Duff said. “I’m going to count on you to teach him.”

Elmer smiled. “All right, I’ll do it. As long as I don’t have to teach him none o’ that nasty stuff like neeps ’n haggis.”

“Elmer, how is it that a man of your experience and world travel has never been able to cultivate an appreciation of such a delicacy?”

“’Cause it ain’t a delicacy is why. Neeps ’n haggis ain’t worth feedin’ to the hogs. Oh, by the way, Miss Megan said to tell you that her sister ’n brother-in-law is comin’ to Chugwater soon. And they’re bringin’ her nephew with ’em.”

“That’s good to know,” Duff said. “It will be nice meeting some of Megan’s family.”

Elmer chuckled. “It ain’t just a meetin’, you know.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s more ’n likely she’s brought ’em up here to check you out, to see iffen maybe you’re a fit person for her to marry.”

“There you go again, Elmer, tryin’ to be a matchmaker. When the time comes, I’ll make my own match, thank you.”

Elmer laughed again. “If you say so. Come, Wang, let me introduce you to some of these critters you’ll be cookin’ for, oncet I learn you to cook.”

Elmer led Wang into the barn where three cowboys were standing on a board stretched between two barrels. “Boys, I want you to meet our new cook. This here is Wang Chow.” Elmer pointed to the cowboys one at a time as he introduced them to Wang.

“This here feller with his nose mashed up against his face ’cause he got into a fight with someone he ought not to have, is Tom Woodward, only don’t never call him nothin’ but Woodward.”

“It warn’t no fight. I got kicked in the face by a mule. You know that, Elmer.”

Elmer ignored him. “And the feller that ain’t hardly got no teeth to speak of is Martin. I don’t know as I’ve even heard his first name spoke. And this long, tall, drink of water is Adam Dewey. He’s the youngest, but he ain’t the dumbest.”

“And just what qualifies you to pick the dumbest?” Dewey asked.

“That’s easy, ’cause there ain’t nearly no one dumber ’n me,” Elmer said good-naturedly, and the others laughed. “You fellers want to tell me why in Sam Hill you got a board lyin’ twixt these two barrels?” He pointed at the board in question.

“We’re plannin’ on usin’ it as a wedge under the corner of the waterin’ trough,” Woodward said. “But it’s too long, ’n none of us wants to walk all the way back to the machine ’n toolshed just to get a saw. We was plannin’ on breakin’ it with a shovel, but so far there ain’t none of us been able to do it.”

“I’ve only had one or two tries,” Dewey said. “Here, let me try again.” He swung the shovel hard at the board, but it just bounced back up. After four or five tries he handed it to Martin, who tried, unsuccessfully, to break it.

“Let’s see what our new cook can do,” Martin said, handing the shovel to Wang. “Here, see if you can break this board.”

Wang took the shovel from Martin, held it for just a moment, then handed it to Elmer.

“No, don’t give it to me. I know damn well I can’t break the board.”

“You want the board broken here?” Wang pointed to the shovel marks on the board.

“Yes.” Elmer tried to hand the shovel back to Wang, but he waved it off.

“I do not need shovel.”

Wang put the knife edge of his hand on the board and held it there for a moment.

“Ha! What are you going to do? Break the board with your bare hand?” Dewey aske. . .