The Forbidden by William W. Johnstone Read Free Book Online

and take them into town for burial.”
    â€œGood idea,” the farmer said. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
    â€œGo with him, Marshal,” Frank said softly. “I’ll wrap the bodies in that old sacking you found in the shed.”
    â€œYou don’t mind, Frank?”
    â€œI’ve seen worse, Marshal. Much worse.”
    â€œWe’ll be back as soon as possible.”
    â€œTake your time. I’m going to take mine in doing this, believe me.”
    Handlen gave him a wan smile and walked to his horse and mounted up, following Wilson back to his farm.
    Frank gathered up the raggedy blankets and sacking from the shed and went to work. He almost lost his biscuits and coffee several times, but managed to get the job done just as the Wilson wagon came rattling up the road, Handlen riding along beside the wagon.
    â€œI’m sure glad you left your wife at home,” Frank told the farmer. “This is not something she should see.”
    â€œThat’s what I told her,” Phil said. “Then we had sort of a fuss about it. She will be coming into town later on. Riding with some of our neighbors. Several of the older boys and girls in the area will keep all the kids safe.”
    â€œWord’s already gone out through the south end of the valleys,” Handlen said. “They’ll be a big town meeting tonight.”
    â€œBetter leave some men behind with the kids,” Frank cautioned. “Men who know how to use guns.”
    â€œGood idea,” Phil said. “I’ll see to it personal.”
    The men loaded the burned bodies in the bed of the wagon, and Wilson and Marshal Handlen made ready to head back to town.
    â€œComing with us?” Handlen asked Frank.
    â€œNot yet. I’ll be a few minutes behind you,” Frank told him. “I’m going to look around a little more.”
    Frank slowly circled the cleared area around the burned house and barn, and found a couple more hoofprints that stood out from the others. He would be able to recognize them if he ever saw them again. There was nothing else for him to do, so he mounted up and headed back to town, catching up with Handlen and Wilson a few miles later.
    They met half a dozen farm families standing solemnly by the road as they rolled along toward town. The men and women didn’t say a word, just stood silently and watched as the death wagon rolled past, the men standing with hats in hand.
    Wilson pulled the wagon behind the undertaker’s office. Frank headed back to the hotel to wash up and get the smell of death off him, then shave and get into some clean clothes.
    â€œThey all dead, Mr. Morgan?” the desk clerk asked.
    â€œAll dead,” Frank said. “Including the dog and some of the horses.”
    â€œDamn!” the clerk whispered.
    â€œGet some hot water up to my room, please,” Frank requested.
    â€œYes, sir. Right away.”
    A half hour later Frank was cleaned up, packed up, and ready to go. He figured Horse would be rested enough for the trail and Dog would be ready to go. Now all he had to do was buy a packhorse and packsaddle, provision up, and get moving. He stopped by the cafe and bought a half dozen biscuits for Dog.
    Dog was glad to see him and the biscuits, and Horse looked fit and trail-ready. The liveryman did not question Frank about the Jefferson family, sensing that Frank did not want to talk about that morning’s events. Frank bought a packhorse and then walked over to the general store for supplies. He bought coffee, beans, salt, bacon, potatoes, flour, and cartridges for pistol and rifle. Back at the livery, he paid his bill, then packed up and was ready to swing into the saddle.
    â€œYou’re not going to stay with us, Mr. Morgan?” the liveryman asked.
    â€œNo.”
    â€œHeaven’s a nice town.”
    â€œYes, it is. Very pleasant.”
    â€œBe a nice place to settle down