Just Dalton, page 1
Just Dalton
The Dalton Series, Volume 9
Ed Law
Published by Culbin Press, 2024.
Names, characters and incidents in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2024 by Ed Law
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the author.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
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Further Reading: Dalton's Vengeance
Also By Ed Law
Chapter One
“The wagon looks like it’s heading to Two Forks,” Dalton said.
“It sure does,” Loren Steele said. He joined Dalton in drawing his horse to a halt at the top of the outcrop. “These days it’s good to see one that’s not heading to Sweet Valley.”
Dalton gave a rueful smile. Since the founding of the community of Two Forks an influx of homesteaders had ensured that the town had grown steadily. Recently a rancher, Cliff Sinclair, had arrived with big plans and plenty of money to spend, but afterward some families had reckoned that the area had become too crowded and they’d moved on to form the settlement of Sweet Valley, two days upriver.
Then, ironically, many newcomers chose to settle in Sweet Valley leading to that town growing quickly and Two Forks stagnating. Despite the new town being close, to date nobody from Two Forks had visited this place to find out what the attraction was.
That hadn’t stopped the town becoming the main subject of conversation. In fact, one of the reasons why Dalton had decided to spend the last few days hunting in the hills with Loren was to be with someone who didn’t always talk about this other place.
It was mid-morning and they were three hours away from Two Forks, while the wagon would contain the first people they had come across since leaving their homes. When the wagon had passed by to head along the front of the outcrop Dalton turned to Loren.
“We ought to catch up with them and introduce ourselves,” he said.
Loren nodded. “We should, and an escort into town will be safer for them, although we don’t want to frighten them so I don’t reckon we should mention our recent bandit trouble.”
Dalton shrugged as Loren brought up the subject of the second big challenge that Two Forks was currently facing.
“Except nobody in Two Forks has had a clear sighting of these bandits and over the last few days we’ve covered a wide area and we’ve not seen any sign of them. I reckon they’ve now either moved on or there never were any troublemakers in the first. . . .”
Dalton trailed off from pouring scorn on the widely held belief that a gang of marauding bandits was operating in the area when he was proved wrong in the worst possible way. A line of six riders came surging down the other side of the outcrop heading directly toward the wagon.
The riders were a hundred yards away from the wagon with a steep slope left for them to navigate when the wagon driver turned to them. The men then whooped with delight, seemingly enjoying the chase, so he sped up.
“I hope you’re right, but this looks bad,” Loren said.
Dalton nodded. Then he and Loren hurried their horses down the slope. Over the loose and slippery ground they concentrated on picking the safest route down. By the time they reached level ground the riders were a quarter-mile ahead with the wagon around the same distance farther on.
The riders were clearly chasing after the wagon removing all doubt about their motive and identity, so Dalton and Loren gave chase at a gallop over terrain that was flat and rocky. The bandits gave no sign that they knew they were being pursued, and with them only making sure they rode fast enough to gain on the wagon, possibly because they didn’t know the terrain well, their pursuers gained on them.
They had halved the distance to the straggling riders at the back of the group when the first gunshot sounded. It must have come from the wagon as the bandits grouped up and milled around before spreading out revealing that the wagon had stopped.
The driver had chosen an acceptable defensive position of a dip in the ground that would provide some cover while the bandits were out in the open. Dalton and Loren added to their problems when, while still galloping toward them, they blasted off a volley of lead.
Most of the riders cringed down in alarm, now apparently realizing for the first time that they were being pursued before they split into two groups of three men. One group stayed on horseback and moved toward the wagon while the other group headed away from it before dismounting and seeking the available cover on the rocky ground to counter Dalton and Loren’s assault.
Dalton searched for cover, too. A large mound was a few dozen yards away, so he drew his horse to the side while beckoning for Loren to follow him. The bandits had time to blast off a quick round of wild shots before both men galloped behind the mound.
Dalton and Loren drew their horses to a halt, quickly dismounted and then scrambled up the mound. When Dalton reached the top, to his delight he found that he had an excellent view of the scene ahead.
The bandits were stuck out in the open with limited cover between the mound and the dip in the ground where the wagon had stopped. A man and woman had taken cover just below the lip of the hollow, but the bandits didn’t have his height advantage and they wouldn’t have a clear sight of them.
Sure enough, the mounted riders weren’t even facing in the right direction when the man raised himself and blasted lead at them. His shots failed to hit any of the riders, while Dalton and Loren fired down at the group of men that were nearest to them.
These men would have decent cover if they were facing anyone who was on the same level as they were, but from up on the mound Dalton had a good view of them. Their shots clattered into rock several feet away from their targets, but the lead was close enough for the men to hug the dirt and get themselves out of sight.
One of the mounted bandits gestured at the wagon and then at the mound while several men turned to him suggesting he was their leader. He confirmed his identity when he swung an arm overhead and pointed to the open plains to his side.
“We ride!” he shouted before following his own order and galloping away.
The other two mounted bandits didn’t waste a moment before following him and by the time the woman raised herself to fire, the riders were galloping away. She still peppered lead at their retreating forms and Dalton and Loren encouraged the developing rout by shooting at the nearer group of men.
This time they’d gotten their targets in their sights and the shots ripped into the rock directly in front of the places where they were hiding forcing them to stay down. When they paused in their firing to reload one man leaped to his feet and scampered for his horse, and this encouraged the other two men to join him in fleeing.
Loren turned to Dalton and raised an eyebrow, silently asking whether they should open fire now that they had a clear view of the bandits. Dalton shook his head, figuring that they’d achieved their main objective by thwarting the ambush.
It looked as if the bandits weren’t just retreating with the intention of regrouping later and launching a counter-attack, but if they shot up some of the men that might get the others’ bloodlust up enough to fight back. Despite that resolution, when the bandits had mounted up, Dalton and Loren still hurried them on their way with high gunfire.
The man and woman joined them in firing at their fleeing forms. Then they moved out of the hollow, but as the leader was now several hundred yards away with the other riders trailing along behind him, every passing moment only made it clearer that they wouldn’t be coming back.
“They sure gave up quickly,” Loren said, punching the air with glee. “If that was the worst that this bandit gang can do, nobody need ever fear them again.”
Dalton shrugged. “We got lucky so we shouldn’t be too confident. We had good cover, as did the folks from the wagon, while the bandits were stuck out in the open.”
“You’re right, but I’ve always reckoned that you make your own luck.”
Dalton smiled at Loren’s positive thinking before they both made their way down the mound. When they reached ground level the only sign of the bandits was a distant and dispersing dust cloud.
They headed to their horses and rode on toward the wagon, and they received several supportive waves from the man and woman. When they’d dismounted the couple moved forward to greet them.
“We sure are obliged for what you did,” the man said and then introduced himself as Grover Cox with his wife being Velma. “Who were those varmints?”
“We don’t know,” Dalton said. “For the last few weeks a rumor has been going around about bandits being in the area, but we’ve had no proof that anyone is actually trying to waylay people.”
“Until now.”
“It would seem so, but on the oth
When Velma nodded, Grover returned the smile.
“Those men could come back so we’d welcome that, provided you’re heading toward Sweet Valley, too.”
“You’re heading to Sweet Valley?” Dalton said.
“Sure. That was what you meant when you said we should stay together until we reach the town, wasn’t it?”
“It wasn’t. We’re from Two Forks.”
Grover furrowed his brow while Velma shrugged.
“We’ve never heard about that place. Then again, we’re sure to find out more about the area when we’ve settled down in Sweet Valley.” Grover set his hands on his hips. “So how do we get there?”
Chapter Two
“I hope you had a good time,” Dalton’s wife, Eliza, said when they had finished hugging after his homecoming.
“It was a fine trip up until the end,” Dalton said, and then went on to give her a brief summary of the gun battle with the bandits.
“That confirms our worst fear.” Eliza turned to the west. “The bandits are really out there and they’re preying on newcomers only a few hours’ riding away.”
“And it confirms the other fear. The homesteaders were looking for Sweet Valley.” Dalton tipped back his hat and sighed. “It’s getting as that’s the one place I never want to hear about again.”
“Then I’ve got bad news for you. Earlier today we got our first visitor from that place and Stanhope Kidd is everything we reckoned someone from there would be.”
On that note of intrigue Eliza signified that she’d join Dalton in walking to the main settlement to report on the day’s events. On the way they collected Loren, who had loitered nearby while she and Dalton greeted each other.
The town had spread out around the meeting point of three rivers with the bulk of the houses being on the north side of the rivers. They crossed the main river and headed to Wes Potter’s house, his barn having become the place where most town meetings took place.
Wes and several people including Cliff Sinclair and Eliza’s brother, Newell, had gathered outside his barn and they were facing a man Dalton didn’t recognize. Eliza confirmed that he was Stanhope.
A lively debate was in progress. Everyone was talking over each other while gesturing at Stanhope as they tried to make their point, and that carried on even when Newell beckoned his sister and the others on. Stanhope was young, but thick-set and he’d adopted a confident stance with his feet set wide apart so that he didn’t appear to be concerned that everyone had set themselves against him.
“You have to accept that we can look after ourselves,” Newell was saying as Dalton and the others mingled in at the back of the group.
“I’m sure you can,” Stanhope said. “But that’s the point I’ve been trying to make. McKinley Vinge’s bandits won’t risk coming close to town when there are rich pickings to be had from attacking the homesteaders heading into the area. Those people need help and I’m here to provide it.”
His point silenced the group for several seconds giving Dalton an ideal opportunity to report his news.
“You’re right that they need someone, but it doesn’t follow that they need you,” he said. “We came across these bandits when they were launching an attack on two newcomers, Grover and Velma Cox. Their raid wasn’t impressive and we had no trouble helping the newcomers to see them off.”
The group of men turned to Dalton with broad smiles on their faces and even Stanhope nodded with approval. Newell asked him for more details, so Dalton went through the incident in greater detail.
When he’d finished the men slapped him and Loren on the back. Then they turned back to Stanhope with their chins raised and their arms folded defying him to continue claiming that they needed his help.
“That news is welcome,” Stanhope said. “Either way, it only helps to confirm my point. It was down to luck that you were in the area and you didn’t have a good plan to foil the ambush, which is what I’m trying to avoid by encouraging you all to support the law.”
Everyone had been shaking their heads and murmuring to themselves, but his final comment made the group start talking and gesticulating at Stanhope again.
“What law?” Dalton shouted, raising his voice to be heard over the hubbub.
“I’m Deputy Stanhope Kidd. Sweet Valley has now appointed its own town marshal and—”
“Whatever Sweet Valley has done has got nothing to do with us. Your town marshal should look after your town’s affairs, not ours.”
Dalton’s comment received a supportive round of cheers, and Stanhope’s frown showed that he’d heard the same view from numerous people today. Stanhope tried to reply, but the noise from everyone shouting at him at once drowned him out and it took him another minute before he could make himself heard.
“It has everything to do with you. If we’re to build a safe area for decent folks to live in, you must help me instead of just arguing.”
His comment didn’t get a response, but only because everyone was now letting Dalton speak for them all.
“If we need a lawman, we can call on Sheriff Blake in White Falls, but so far we haven’t needed to do that.”
“It can take up to two weeks to get to White Falls, but Sweet Valley is only two days away.”
“To my way of thinking that’s too close,” Dalton said to himself under his breath, although Loren and Eliza must have been close enough to hear him as they smiled. He raised his voice. “Whether a lawman is two weeks away or two days away, if this bandit gang raid it’ll be over long before we can get the word out.”
As everyone gave another round of support Stanhope lowered his head, now seemingly tired with arguing his case.
“I’m sorry that you all see it that way. I’ll talk to Grover and Velma now about what they saw, but if any of you reconsider helping me, see me before I leave.”
Stanhope craned his neck, presumably seeking out the people Dalton and Loren had helped, so Dalton shook his head.
“They didn’t come here,” he said. “We left them to make their own way to Sweet Valley.”
“Why am I not surprised they went there?” Stanhope said with a low voice as he turned away, but unlike with Dalton’s aside he’d spoken loud enough for everyone to hear him.
Several people muttered low oaths. Then Cliff and Newell stepped in front of Stanhope to block his way while the rest of the group crowded around him. Everyone jostled and shoved the newcomer, their anger growing by the moment, but then with a resounding grunt of concern everyone stepped backward for a step to leave clear space around him. Stanhope had drawn a gun on Newell.
“There was no need to do that,” Cliff said, raising his hands and nodding to Newell to follow his lead.
“Then step aside and I won’t take this no further,” Stanhope said.
Stanhope stepped up to Cliff, who backed away. So he moved toward Newell, who stood his ground forcing Stanhope to shove him backward for a pace and then gesture at everyone else to move even farther away.
“If this is how the folks in Sweet Valley behave, you can keep your justice,” Newell said.
Newell raised his hands while taking a longer pace away to ensure that Stanhope had a clear path away from the barn, but Stanhope stayed where he was and called to Dalton over the heads of the men around him.
“I’ll speak with Grover and Velma when I catch up with them,” he said. “For now I need to check out the place where these bandits attacked.”
Dalton stood tall and patted his holster. After a moment’s thought, Stanhope holstered his gun with a flourish.
“You skirt around the edge of Cliff Sinclair’s land and head upriver toward Durando,” Dalton said. “Then you leave the river at a waterfall and head across the plains to this massive outcrop. The bandits were waiting there to swoop down on them.”
“I’ve never been nowhere near Durando. You’d better draw me a map.”
Snorts of derision sounded as Dalton had described a route and a place that was familiar to everyone else here. Then the men started to peel away while shaking their heads and murmuring to each other about their contempt for Sweet Valley folks.
