Savage Texas: The Stampeders Read Free Page A

street from the stagecoach stop the day Julia Pepperday Canton had arrived in Hangtree. That had been four days before she and her offering plate punished the intruder at the church service. Cross had been one of about a dozen men lucky enough to witness her emergence from the coach. The vision of an angel placing a delicate foot into a town that had far more in common with hell than heaven had literally stopped him in his tracks and taken his mind off the raw, burning whiskey he’d been on his way to imbibe down at the Dog Star Saloon at that time. The moment he’d seen her he’d removed his hat and tucked his long dark hair more neatly behind his ears, a habit when he spotted lovely women. He wanted to look his best in case she glanced his way. She did, just as he replaced his hat and noticed he’d planted his left boot in a steaming heap left by a passing horse. So much for appearing dignified and dashing before the prettiest visitor ever to grace Hangtree, Texas.
    Cross had watched her make her way from the stage stop to the hotel, her luggage carried by a couple of youths she’d recruited with a few bats of her perfectly lashed eyes. Johnny vowed to himself that he’d find his chance to get to know this young woman. He’d make sure it happened.
    As it turned out, the chance to meet Julia Canton found him with no effort on his part.
    She sat before him now in the small back room at the Hangtree Church where Preacher Fuller had set up a humble library and study for himself. Church offices for preachers were a rarity in frontier outposts such as Hangtree—the notion of a clergyman keeping an office just like a banker or a mayor seemed overly uppity and citified—but Fulton found it easier to prepare his sermons within the walls of a consecrated building, and the privacy of the room made it good for talking with those who came for counsel. He’d been glad to let Cross borrow his study to interview Julia Canton in representation of the meager law enforcement personnel, formal and informal, of Hangtree.
    “First off, miss, let me assure you that you are in no trouble,” Cross said to the doe-eyed beauty. “What you did in the church Sunday morning, as I understand it, was no assault on your part. It was a defensive act. That bastard . . . pardon me . . . that scoundrel was in the midst of robbing the church and its congregation. Blatant crime. And he was armed and a danger to everyone around him, especially since the elders there decided not to allow guns into the church-house anymore. You were the only person there to have the presence of mind to use something right at hand to stop what the son of a bi . . . uh, gun was doing. I commend you for it.”
    “Thank you, sir,” she said. Her voice made Johnny think of fresh cream. “Where is the man now?”
    “Once the doc got his bleeding stopped and stitched up his gums, they locked him up. Yesterday the sheriff hauled him off to the custody of the U.S. Marshal. Winds up he was lying about who he is, all that Judas nonsense. He’s a man named Josiah Enoch, known criminal wanted in just about every place a man can be wanted. All kinds of crimes, ranging from murder through bank robbery, highwayman crimes, attempted murder . . . and some I couldn’t decently talk about to a lady.”
    She closed her eyes and gave a little shudder. “To think I was so close to such a bad man!”
    “Not the sort you’re used to, huh?”
    “Oh no. I grew up around good people, and in a good family.”
    “That’s a blessing not to be took for granted, miss.”
    “Please, call me Julia.”
    “Call me Johnny.” With a fat stub of pencil pulled from a vest pocket, he scrawled her name down on a small paper tablet. She watched him closely. “Why are you taking down notes, Johnny? You said I am not in trouble.”
    “I’m just trying to go by the book, Julia. Good records make for good law. Got a middle name?”
    “Pepperday. My mother’s maiden name. She and Papa used to call